


Zūgagon se muñnykeā  vēzos - Fear the Mother Sun

by AmeliaIsmills



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: F/F, F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-02
Updated: 2021-01-01
Packaged: 2021-03-10 18:46:52
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 32,126
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28491873
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AmeliaIsmills/pseuds/AmeliaIsmills
Summary: When a sun survives, the Dragon and Wolf child will thrive. These are the words that first whispered into the dreams of Princess Rhaenys of House Targaryen when she was still a child in the Red Keep before the stag and lion came to destroy them all.A whispered plea to a knight and a twist of fate changed their lives, only the gods themselves know exactly how.
Relationships: Arianne Martell/Jon Snow, Catelyn Stark/Ned Stark, Jaime Lannister/Elia Martell, OFC/Daenerys Targaryen, Robb Stark/Rhaenys Targaryen (Daughter of Elia), past Elia Martell/Lyanna Stark, past Ned Stark/Ashara Dayne
Comments: 12
Kudos: 48





	1. Se hāregros dakogon mele - The Trident Runs Red

**Author's Note:**

> This idea started with several loose ended ideas that were not fully formed.
> 
> The following paragraph will contain general spoilers for the story. Just a FYI. 
> 
> It began with an Elia and Ashara both survive story. Elia fell in love with Lyanna first, before Rhaegar became obsessed with using Lyanna for another child, but then she was left alive with both of them dead raising Jon and Rhaenys. 
> 
> Ashara and Ned Stark had an affair before he married Catelyn Tully, with the intent to wed, and she bore a child. 
> 
> Then I wanted a story that dealt with Valyria, magic-both Stark and Targaryen, and dragons. 
> 
> Third, I wanted decent, but manic Viserys. An idea of who he could have been if not placed under the strain of running and surviving and trying to, initially at least, take care of Daenerys. Those three items turned into the story I have here.

[ ](https://www.flickr.com/photos/183137222@N05/50789333522/in/dateposted-public/)

**One Week after the Battle of the Trident**

* * *

  
  


Elia crushed the letter from Rhaegar. She had sworn to only open the folded parchment if the Trident had been lost. She felt her eyes water, but not because of Rhaegar. Things would be so much more difficult with him dead. 

Lyanna, alone in the Tower of Joy, could only be weeks if not days from giving birth.

She swallowed hard at the knowledge that Rhaegar was gone and it was only they who could see to their children’s future now. 

_ “If I fall, you must protect one another, trust no one else.. Should the trident run red, then take the children and flee across the sea. Build your strength, build your armies, and wait till the prince who was promised must return. Place her son upon the throne, but if not a boy, then know Rhaenys is my chosen heir and Lyanna’s child after her in succession.” _

Rhaegar’s word fell on her like a hundred sacks of grain. Heavy and unwavering. Duty, without love, was the gift he gave with his death. 

Much like his own life had been lived. 

Trapped in King’s Landing, Elia knew not how long she would remain able to see to anything. 

“My Princess,” a voice from the door drew her attention. Elia smoothed all thoughts from her face as Lord Varys entered the room at her gesture of admittance. 

“I am afraid the King will allow no one to sail and certainly not Rhaegar’s last living child,” Varys quietly informed her and Elia didn’t bother to hold back a snort. 

She cut her eyes to the eunuch, “You mean hostage, correct? You have to think me rather vapid if you don’t think I already know he has planned to draw up the disinheritance papers, replacing Rhaegar with Viserys. Dorne will never accept this. You have to know they will fight to place Rhaegar’s blood and King Aerys cannot fight this war against the Baratheon puppet and the might of Dorne.”

Varys just tittered and nodded his agreement, “The realm is sure to suffer the longer this goes on, but I am sure we will have relief soon of a sort, one way or another.”

Elia turned away, eyes meeting that of Jaime Lannister, who stood guard this day. The Lannister Kingsguard perplexed her. He wished to be Kingsguard but also felt the pull of remaining loyal to the lions. One could not be both lion and kingsguard unless one’s own blood sat on the throne.

Narrowing her eyes at him, Jaime Lannister blanched, and she sighed. 

Turning back to the eunuch she was annoyed to find him gone. That left her even more convinced that Lord Varys was no ally to herself or hers. He no longer even showed a modicum of respect due her station as princess of the seven kingdoms. Had he thrown his lot in with Baratheon or was he Aerys loyal dog? The death of Aegon had made it apparent that choices would have to be made, but why could they not trust that Rhaegar would make sure an heir existed? Why could they not trust her? 

Elia said a prayer that Lyanna birthed a boy. It was their only true hope at this point for their family to survive and flourish. 

“Muna?” 

Elia turned to see Rhaenys peering around the corner. 

“Yes, nuha tala?” she turned and crossed the room. 

Rhaenys sniffed, “I had a bad dream. Sing to me, Muna?” 

Walking her daughter back to bed, Elia began to hum a dornish lullaby. 

Stopping a few feet from the room, Rhaenys tugged on her hand and turned to run up to Ser Jaime and hug his legs. 

He looked down in shock as her daughter looked up. 

“You protect us, Ser Jaime? Keep the bad people away?” Rhaenys asked with wide-eyes. Elia watched as Jaime swallowed hard and kneeled down to her daughter’s level. 

“I swear it, Princess. I swear it by the seven,” he whispered and Elia couldn’t help but find herself reassured. 

**One Week and Four Days after the Battle of the Trident**

* * *

Jaime watched as King Aerys walked around the throne room, almost in a manic, circling manner. He wished that he had been assigned to the Princess and the children, but King Aerys had sent the rest away before word reached them from the Trident. He did not know what was going to happen and it made him nervous. His father had gone quiet, but he’d heard the rumors that the lion banner was being seen coming towards the city. 

Jaime was not fool enough to believe the words of Pycelle when the maester had whispered to Aerys that Tywin Lannister was coming to save the city. He knew his father, better than anyone beyond possibly his siblings. Tywin Lannister would side with the strongest, the house who would make Lannister blood royal, and that was currently not House Targaryen. He wrinkled his nose at the idea of House Baratheon holding any specific type of power. 

From what he’d seen, the head of that house was a large, babbling buffoon rather than a stag. Unlike half the rest of Westeros, it seemed, Jaime remembered the tournament where Rhaegar had crowned Lady Lyanna Stark. He remembered it being Elia who had introduced them and snuck the girl into their tent to hide while half the king’s own men searched for the laughing tree knight. He remembered Rhaegar and her whispering in a hushed argument about the danger it created and Elia sharply hissing that they would protect the she-wolf whether he liked it or not. He’d just been made kingsguard earlier in the day when he saw it and had not spoken to anyone of what he heard for fear of reprisal. 

After that, the rest didn’t add up to Jaime. 

“We will burn them all!” Aerys' voice cackled and Jaime was drawn back to both Aerys and the new hand, Rossart, “Go, go, Rossart. Light the flame.”

“My King?” Jaime cautiously asked and the two pairs of eyes turned to look at him. 

A cruel twist to Aerys’ lips drew Jaime to be cautious. 

“Ah, yes, my last kingsguard. Are you loyal, Jaime Lannister? Your father marches upon my city, does he come as friend or foe?” Aerys hissed out. 

Jaime kept his face blank, “I do not know, my king, but I am a kingsguard and am loyal to the king.”

“Hmm,” Aerys seemed to consider his words, before his grin turned manic again, “Then I order you to the fray, Jaime Lannister. Go, go to your father...go and speak to him of loyalty...and then when you are done, bring me his head,” Aerys hissed out and Jaime drew back, unable to stop the shock. 

“My King...surely….” he began, but Aerys immediately took offense. 

“Go, Lord Jaime, go!” he began to yell and Jaime turned and walked away as quickly as possible. Leaning against the stone walls outside the throne room, he took a shuddered breath. Where was Arthur? Gerold? Oswell? They had no word of their death at the trident, they were for all purposes of the crows, not there? 

He looked around and realized with a shock that all of the castle guards must have been dismissed from the throne room, because no one stood watch. 

“Go Rossart. Light the flame, burn the city, burn them all. If that stag bastard thinks to rule my kingdom, we will give him a kingdom of ashes,” Aerys’ voice carried from the room and Jaime felt his heart shudder once again. 

“My King, if I light the wildfire now, then it gives us no benefit. Wait till the lion army is within the walls of the keep. Take Pycelle’s advice, open the gates. We will light the fire and burn them all,” Rossart seemed to be trying to calm the King and it seemed to work. 

“Just make sure the Dornish cunt and her female spawn are here to enjoy the roasting. Viserys will carry the line after me, not that diluted blood of my weak son,” Aerys continued and Jaime held still as Rossart exited the room, having obviously been dismissed. 

Not thinking of anything else, but the Princess and her children, Jaime stepped forward as the man passed by him. He drew his knife and quickly sliced the man’s throat. Almost as if he was unaware of himself, Jaime entered the throne room again, finding Aerys still standing in the middle of the room. 

He made no noise as he moved forward and when the king turned to him and opened his mouth to speak, Jaime moved only once to draw his sword and spear the king through the chest. 

Standing over the man, Jaime froze, not sure what to do. How far out was his father? Could he trust his father? 

The answer came to him almost as quickly as the question. No. He most certainly could not trust his father with his young Queen or the Princess Regent. That’s what Elia would be now, with Aerys dead and no true proclamation having been issued claiming Viserys his heir, the Princess Regent to Queen Rhaenys. 

_ Seven hells, he’d basically crowned a four year old Queen.  _

_ Kingslayer _ . Jaime thought. _ I am a kingslayer. I have broken my vows.  _

Then with a resolve he truly did not feel, Jamie turned heel and began to hastily make way to Maegor’s Holdfast. The Princesses needed to leave post haste. 

  
  


Elia had been braiding Rhaenys curls to her head when Ser Jaime burst through the doors. She stood and reached between her skirts for the knife hidden among the folds.

“Princess...Princess, we must go,” he said flushed and Elia couldn’t help but gape in astonishment as she took in his blooded clothes and flustered look. 

“The King?” she began, but he cut her off. 

“Dead…I...he was going to kill you and the princess...he was going to kill everyone...wildfire. Rossart and the King...I killed them,” Jaime confessed and Elia’s heart seized. 

“Then surely…” she began thinking. Were they not safe with the king dead? Surely the Stark’s would back their own kin. She could send ravens...bring Lyanna to the capital...pray the child was a boy. 

Jaime was shaking his head even as she realized this would not work. 

“My father, My Princess, he is on the way and I do not trust him with the Queen or your own safety. I think he would see the Baratheon on the throne to make way for a crown for Cersei,” Jaime confessed and Elia could hear the heartache all throughout his voice. 

_ He would kill Lyanna, the babe, and us to make room. He would be here well before any other forces and we could not trust Arryn or Baratheon either.  _ Elia thought and in this she had no doubts. Removing her hand from the blade, she straightened her skirts and called to her handmaids. 

Two girls, the last of her Dornish household that had been allowed to stay in King's Landing.

“Quickly, dress Rhaenys, we must be gone before the bells of morning,” she ordered and walked to Jaime Lannister.

“You are right then, we must go, but I must have a new oath from you, Jaime,” she said quietly and watched as he nodded slowly. 

“Vow to hold my secrets until you are given leave to speak of them and to follow my orders and directions as if they were the king’s himself,” Elia ordered and when he had done, she gave a sharp nod. 

“There should be a man at the coast waiting per the last letter from my brother. He will know how to remove us through the bay,” she instructed as they slipped through the keep, Rhaenys hand tucked tightly into hers. Taking a deep breath she tried to calm her beating heart. 

“How long till your father reaches the gates, do you believe?” she whispered. 

Jaime gave a half shrug as he led the way through the halls, “Could be anytime within the week, Princess.”

“Here,” Elia said quietly as they stopped before a painting of Visenya Targaryen. Looking around she pressed into the indentions of the frame and Jaime watched as it swung upon to reveal a tunnel. 

“Why?” he began to ask. If she had known that the tunnel was here then why had she not fled before?

Elia sighed, “Timing, Ser Jaime, timing. If we left too early, Aerys would easily have drug us back, but hopefully with his death we will be able to make it away with the chaos. If we can get away before your father reaches the gates.”

“I will get you to Sunspear, Princess, I promise,” he swore as they slipped through the darkness, feeling their way by touching the walls, and small bits of light filtering through the stones. 

Elia sighed. She would tell him of their alternative travel path as soon as they were aboard a ship and away from the bay. She would tell where his brothers were, hopefully their king, and her last love.

**One Week and Five Days Past the Battle of the Trident**

* * *

Elia breathed in the air as the ship broke against the waves as they hurried towards the Tower of Joy. They would remove Lyanna, the child, and the Kingsguard and move quickly to Sunspear to regroup before deciding the next course of action. 

“Princess? The captain says to tell you we will make port soon at Starfall,” Jaime said as he came behind her, “May I ask where we go afterwards?” 

Elia couldn’t help the tilt of her lips at Jaime’s hinting of wanting to know where they would be going. He had been patient, but she could understand his exasperation underneath the worry. 

“Soon, Jaime. I promise you will understand soon. Now, I must prepare Rhaenys. Please tell me when we dock.” 

She slipped below deck and into the small cabin she had been sharing with her daughter. 

“Dearest, we have almost arrived, we must get ourselves ready and remember the rules of the game,” Elia whispered to Rhaenys as she drew her daughter close. 

“We must be like ghosts, Muna. Wear our shawls around our faces and our cloaks pulled up. We are going to surprise Ser Arthur and Lady Ashara, but we cannot tell anyone about Ser Arthur. It’s a secret and a surprise,” Rhaenys whispered back conspiringly. Elia smiled brightly at her and nodded her approval. 

She dressed them and had just pulled the cloak over Rhaenys head to shadow her face when a knock at the door and Jaime’s voice let her know they had arrived. 

They made way off the ship and were hustled fairly quickly into a wheelhouse, Jaime shutting the door and latching it firmly behind her. Elia’s eyes widened as she realized Ashara was in the carriage as well. 

“Ash!” she cried out and could not help but throw her arms around the pregnant woman. Elia pulled back and looked down, hesitantly raising a hand to Ashara’s stomach. 

“Ash..” she began. 

The other woman gave her a watery smile, “Did you hear? Ned married Catelyn Tully at Riverrun to bind the Tully’s to the side of Robert Baratheon.”

Elia reached out and grasped her hands, “The child?”

“Mine. Only mine,” Ashara responded, a hardness to her voice that Elia had never heard. Elia nodded and squeezed her friend’s hands in commiseration.

“Now, Elia. Why are we going to the Tower of Joy? I received a missive from Arthur asking to arrange transport away from Starfall to Essos not two days after I received your own raven,” Ashara said quietly. 

Elia smiled tightly at her, “Lyanna is at Starfall, Ash, and if we are lucky so is…” she broke off not wanting to speak the worse into existence by announcing the hope. 

“A king?” Ashara whispered at her, eyes widened, and Elia nodded sharply. 

“Yes, the king, our king.” 

* * *

Jaime rode silently beside Elia and Ashara, Rhaenys in front of her mother. He did not like the struggle the Dornish woman was having being so far with child and riding into the mountains of Dorne to a still unknown destination, but Elia had not given much of a choice and he had vowed. 

It had not escaped his notice that Elia had constantly moved the topic away from getting Rhaenys and herself to the rest of the royal family on Dragonstone. Jaime personally felt they needed to try to rendezvous somewhere besides this side of the narrow sea. Elia had simply told him that they would figure out where to go when they had found the rest of their party. 

Jaime had sworn to not question her and so he silently rode. 

He had been surprised by the lack of conversation between Elia and Ashara as well. Both women seemed to not want to say much about where they were going or about the child Lady Ashara was obviously close to delivering. 

The only thing he had heard Elia whisper to the other women was that there had to be a maester where they were going or a midwife, surely Rhaegar would have left one. That was the only hint of what was happening Jaime had been given. 

“I feel we should dismount and walk from from here,” Lady Ashara said abruptly and Jaime swung himself over his horse as did Elia and Ashara. He was not comfortable at all when Elia ordered the other men with them to stay back with the horses. 

He could see the tops of a tower some odd miles away and he looked at Ashara with as much of a side-eye as he could. The woman should not be in the middle of Dorne in her condition, nevertheless walking some odd place. 

“Don’t Ser Jaime, we are almost there,” Elia said and placed a hand to his arm, “Argue and I will leave you tied to the horses with the men.”

Jaime snapped his mouth shut. 

They began the trek and after a few hours the entirety of the structure was in view. It was who was outside the structure that made him inhale sharply. 

“My Princess,” he whispered hoarsely, “Who is here?” 

Jaime watched as Arthur Dayne strode toward them, white cloak billowing behind. 

He looked over to Elia and she smiled softly at him, “The Princess Lyanna of Houses Stark and Targeryon and hopefully, the new king.” 

Jaime inhaled sharply as Arthur came upon him and knelt in front of Elia quickly before he was motioned upward. 

“My Princess, Princess Lyanna is in labor. The wet nurse is with her, but I fear it is too early, and the maester or midwife never arrived.” Ser Arthur told Elia and Jaime could see the worry. He could also see the worry of glancing back to Ashara every few moments. 

“Jaime, take Rhaenys if you please,” Elia ordered as she pressed Rhaenys towards the kingsguard.

Elia hurried into the tower, Ashara moving as quickly behind her as she could. 

Jaime stared wide-eyed at Arthur. The man stared back for a moment before smiling slightly. 

“Well done, brother,” Ser Arthur clasped him on the shoulder before looking down to Rhaenys, “And you, young Princess, are you hungry?” 

Rhaenys grinned up at him and nodded quickly. 

“Well, then, come and let us feast as we plan,” Arthur led them back towards the tower, Oswell slipping out to take his place. 

Hours passed into a day and then two. It was on the dawn of the third day that Jaime felt his heart clench as the sound of a babe, loud and wailing was heard. The stone walls blocked out most everything else, but even they could not block out the sound of Princess Elia’s heart shattering cry splitting the air and the deep racking sobs that followed. 

Princess Rhaenys slept in a hastily put together room that Jaime was almost positive was supposed to be a broom closet, but it allowed for the kingsguard to easily guard the girl, the stairs, and the entrance to the tower. Jaime was glad to see she slept through the screams and the following sobs. 

He finally stepped outside to stand beside Gerold. The commander of the kingsguard looked over to him briefly before looking back over the expanse. 

“Do you understand what is going to happen next, Jaime?” the man asked gruffly and Jaime swallowed hard. 

“We will have to flee. Flee and protect them until the throne can be resecurred or they decide otherwise,” Jaime answered. 

“You will have to leave everyone and everything else you knew. You understand that your father has likely joined Baratheon by now and that by the time we settle away from here that your sister will most likely be his queen,” the commander quietly stated. 

Jaime stared straight ahead, refusing to show any type of emotion, “I am a kingsguard. I swore a vow that I broke once to protect them. I will not dishonor that breaking by abandoning Prince Rhaegar’s family when they need us most.” 

“Your sister will likely bear children and raise one to be king. It will be years before we are ready. Probably around the same time your sister’s child is too old to learn to be anything but monarch. Do you understand why I am telling you this? What will happen to your nephew when we take the throne back?” 

Jaime felt the words wash over him before turning and finally staring right at the man, “I serve Targaryen, Lord-Commander, and I am where I am supposed to be.” 

“Good, because this journey is just about to start. They will think the war has ended, but it will wage till our young King sits the Iron Throne,” both men started and turned to find Elia at the bottom of the stairs, clutching a bundle to her chest, her eyes blazing with fire and her body covered in sweat and blood. 

“Princess Lyanna?” Jaime asked, voice cracking. 

“Gone from this world,” Elia’s voice shook only slightly, “Might I be the first to present, Rhaegon. First of His Name, of House Targaryen. King of the Andals and the First Men, Lord Protector of the Seven Kingdoms, Rightful and lawful King of Westeros.” 

As one, the Kingsguard knelt to their king. 

* * *

Time seemed to fly after Lyanna passed and Rhaegon was born. The tower was made to appear ransacked and then set to flame. It was the day they prepared to leave that the first oddity of their traveling troupe occurred. 

“Princess, what shall we do with Princess Lyanna’s body upon reaching Starfall? Should we prepare to send it back to the North?” Gerold asked the day they prepared to set out. 

Elia paused. It was risky and she was grateful to Gerold for suggesting it all the same. It was risky, but was it right? Lyanna would have thought so. 

“Muna Lya has to go with us home,” Rhaenys said from behind them, pulling her thumb from her mouth. 

Elia couldn’t help the tears, “Sweetling, we are not going back to the Red Keep, not for a long time or to Dragonstone.” 

She started as Rhaenys stomped her foot at her and Elia raised an eyebrow. Her daughter was not known for tantrums. 

“No, Muna, not new homes. We have to go to the old home. The lady said so,” Rhaenys demanded, “Muna Lya has to go with us for protection.” 

Elia tilted her head, “Protection? What lady, sweetling?” 

Rhaenys narrowed her eyes, “The lady in my dreams. She says we need to go now, today, though. That Muna Lya’s brother is coming and will be here soon. She says we should take a path less traveled to avoid them with the two sisters.” 

“The mountain pass, Elia. She’s talking about the mountain pass with the old road. There are two large boulders at the entrance. It’s sometimes called the two sisters. How? Has anyone spoken of this?” Ashara asked, looking around. At the negativ

e responses, Elia felt her blood grow cold. 

“Did this lady have a name, Rhaenys?” she finally asked quietly. Her daughter looked at her and nodded. 

“She said her name was Daenys and that we have to take brother’s muna with us home,” Rhaenys said, determination in her voice. 

“Princess?” Gerold asked. 

Elia looked to the covered wagon that they were leading away that they had prepared Lyanna’s body as much as possible to carry away. Then she looked forward. 

“We will start with the mountain pass and we will decide when we reach Starfall,” she finally said and they began the journey back. 

Ashara drew closer to labor and with that in mind, their strange procession made as good a time as they could. Elia was pleased to find her milk had not drawn up completely from Aegon’s birth. The wet nurse explained how some women would naturally produce if presented with a babe in need, especially if they had given birth within the last few turns of the year. That in mind they left Wylla in a small mountain village with enough coin for a new start. 

Elia tried not to focus on the idea that she was not completely sure one of the kingsguard did not slip back to end the woman’s life. There would be enough decision’s pressing her in the future. 

They reached Starfall on the fifth day and it was upon their return that Elia’s brother, Oberyn, met them on the road in. 

“Elia,” he breathed and she could not help but lean into her brother’s strength but for a moment. She pulled back and looked him over. He seemed worried. 

“News?” she asked as they moved away slightly from the party, Ser Jaime following and stopping at a respectful distance, but close enough to protect.

Oberyn only looked at the man briefly, a myriad of thoughts crossing his face, before directing his attention back to Elia. 

“Tywin Lannister took the city and handed it to Robert Baratheon the moment his army arrived. They are calling Aerys the Mad King and saying that he killed Rhaenys and yourself. They are using Robert Baratheon’s Targaryen ancestry to claim the throne. Apparently the stag has sent Lord Eddard Stark to find his sister. They passed through Starfall only six days ago,” Oberyn’s mouth curled in disgust. 

“Where is Princess Lyanna?” he asked, suddenly looking around and seeing the babe tucked against Arthur’s chest at this point and then she saw his eyes fall on the covered cart. 

“I am sorry, Elia,” he whispered lower so no one else would hear, “Whatever else, Dorne would have protected the woman you loved.” 

Elia reached up and cupped her brother’s cheek, “And now it must protect the secret of her son, the true king.”

“How is Robert getting around the idea of Viserys being alive and still heir?” she asked as she stepped back, trying to distance herself from both the comfort and the emotions. 

Oberyn sighed, “They are basically just ignoring the boy’s existence. Rumor is that Queen Rhaella is due to give birth to a child any day and that Stannis Baratheon readies a fleet to take Dragonstone. I believe they plan to kill the rest of the royal family. Doran agrees and feels that if anyone pushed for Viserys or a Targaryeon they would claim conquest, but they are avoiding that it appears. ”

Elia hummed in agreement as she thought out the information, “Conquest easily leads to rebellion, Targaryen ancestry leads to vows of perpetuity. We must go, Oberyn. Flee from Westeros, for now at least.” 

She held up a hand when he opened his mouth to argue, “Doran cannot keep us safe for as long as we need for the King to grow. Plans will have to be made though and I am sure that Doran has made his demands known.”

She raised an eyebrow at Oberyn when he grunted in agreement. 

“A betrothal?” she said, voice quiet, but sharp. 

Oberyn shrugged, almost apologetic, “Sister-wife or not, the child holds no Dornish blood. Doran will only support fully if a betrothal is made between the babe and Arianne.” 

Elia closed her eyes and looked over to Rhaegon.

“We call him Jon amongst ourselves to remember the North from whence his mother came.Lya ran from her own betrothal and through that action her son is now to be tied to one,” she murmured before steeling herself and turning to Oberyn.

“Tell Doran it is done. Upon our return to Westeros, Rhaegon will wed Arianne, and they will take the throne. Dornish blood tied to the regnal Targaryen bloodline as agreed upon with when Rhaegar wed me.” 

“My Princess?” Jaime’s voice brought them back to attention, “We need to move.” 

Elia sighed and looked back to Oberyn. 

“The ship has been made ready for a journey to Essos. Doran felt it likely that you would need to travel directly from Starfall away from Westeros. They will take you where you deem most necessary,” Oberyn informed her. 

Elia’s mind drifted back to Rhaenys words and Lyanna’s body. She took a deep breath and sighed. 

“I need the silent sisters before we set sail, Oberyn. I need them to embalm Lyanna’s body as quietly and quickly as possible. She must go with us.” 

Her brother’s eyebrows raised practically into his hairline, but he nodded after a moment and they turned to make way into the city. 

* * *

Ashara knew without a doubt that her child was a girl. She didn’t know how she knew, but when Rhaenys had reached out and touched her belly, Ashara had been overtaken with the knowledge. 

She supposed this made it easier in the long run to name the child. With a boy she would have fallen back on a Dayne name, but would have always felt guilty to not give the child the one of his father she could have. A girl though, she knew, would be called Lyanna. In this she honored their new king and the spirit of the northern blood in the child. 

She worried for Elia almost constantly. The Princess Regent had taken to sitting long hours by the prepared body of Lyanna, only coming away when made to sleep or when Rhaenys needed tending to. 

They stayed below most of the time as well, trying to maintain secrecy as much as possible. The current destination was Pentos, but every day they sailed further from Starfall, Rhaenys yelled louder and louder that they were going the wrong way. 

“The Princess Regent wants us to safely place all of you and then we will make a plan to bring the Dowager Queen and her children to us as well,” Arthur said, slipping into the room. Ashara smiled at him and rubbed at her back. 

She knew she was overdue, but only by a few days from her calculations. She sighed and went to move when a jarring sent her crashing forward. Arthur caught her as he balanced himself at the shifting motion of the ship. 

“STORM AHEAD. HANDS TO THE DECK,” they heard yelling above them and Ashara swallowed hard. Something felt wrong about this. 

“Arthur, you should go check on…,” a sharp pain had her cutting off as she felt wetness spread between her thighs and began rushing down her legs. 

“Ashara,” Arthur said as she began to slip. He quickly lifted her and moved to the bed. 

“I’ll get Elia and find the maester,” he said and as she laid down he was rushing from the room. 

Ashara couldn’t help the scream that ripped from her as her body seized in pain, stomach feeling as though it was collapsing inside of her. 

“Ash,” Elia said, rushing into the room, eyes wild, “I’m here. It will be okay.” 

Ash screamed again as the pain overtook her and thunder crackled overhead. 

The world seemed to go blurry as she heard the sound of the maester coming through the door. Time passed almost as if she’d had too much sweet wine, with interims of painful, shocking clarity. She was held up to drink water and something she assumed was milk of the poppy in trading measures. 

When she was next aware, the storm had passed and it was silent and dark in the room. 

“My babe,” she cried out and soon felt a hand pressing to her forehead with a cooling cloth. 

“Shh, Ash. The child is fine, but you have lost much blood. Maester Marwyn says you must rest,” Elia’s voice soothed her. 

“I want to see her, my Lyanna. Where is she?” she had to see, to know her daughter was well. 

“Alright, Ash. I will have Arthur bring her,” Elia assured her and Ashara let herself lay back still at the words. 

A few minutes later, the door opened and Arthur walked in with Elia, Rhaenys, and a babe tucked to his own chest. Ashara held her arms out weakly and when the bundle was placed in them, she sighed happily as Stark grey eyes stared back at her from a tussle of blond hair. 

“Auntie Ash, a baby she wolf!” Rhaenys grinned toothily at her and made her laugh weakly. 

“A baby wolf and a baby shedragon are here,” Rhaenys laughed too. 

“No, sweetling, your brother was not born last night,” Elia chuckled at the girl’s exuberance. 

Ashara watched as Elia raised her eyebrow when Rhaenys argued, “No Muna, not valonqar,  _ namar.”  _

Ashara searched her memory for a familiarity with the valyrian word and looked to Elia, who had gone pale. 

“Aunt. I think she means that Rhaella has given birth,” Elia finally said. 

Ashara looked down as Lyanna began to whimper and looked back up with wide eyes. Elia laughed as she pressed Arthur and Rhaenys back out the door and came back to help Ashara put Lyanna to breast. 

“She is perfect, Ash. Absolutely perfect,” Elia said when Lyanna was happily nursing a bit later, having latched on easily. 

Ashara smiled at her friend and then back down. She was perfect and she hoped one day Ned would know how perfect their daughter was. 

“Where are we?” she asked after a while in silence and looked up at Elia’s silence. 

“Elia?” 

Elia glanced away and then seemed to steel herself. 

“The storm pressed us off course. We somehow navigated through some very rough terrain, almost like...almost like we were led, Ash,” Elia started and when prompted with a nod, continued. 

“We passed through the smoke sea, Ash. We are within the chain of islands leading to Valyria,” Elia whispered hoarsely and Ashara felt her heart stutter. 

“Elia, Rhaenys...she said to the old home, we cannot pretend that she has not seen this,” Ashara responded and couldn’t help but clutch Lyanna slightly closer to her breast. 

Elia nodded in agreement, “I know and while the crew seems hesitant, Arthur says that they have agreed to take us through the islands. Rhaenys told the Maester the other night that he was right about what killed Aerea and about the state of the city.” 

“What does this mean, Elia?” Ashara asked as she tried to understand everything that was being told to her. 

“Marwyn says he knows how to safeguard against the parasite with potions that would kill it upon infestation. That he could make Valyria safe for us to settle and hide.” 

Ashara reached out and took Elia’s hand, “Valyria, Elia. They would never find us in Valyria. We would be safe and not always running.” 

Elia nodded, “That is why we have decided. We are going to settle Valyria. We are taking Rhaegon and Rhaenys home.” 

* * *

Elia had retired for the night when Arthur knocked and stuck his head in. He motioned Jaime to the side when he stepped in. 

“Princess, the Maester insists upon talking to you tonight,” Arthur murmured and she tilted her head in confusion and drew herself from the bed. 

“Let him enter,” she gave permission as she drew the blankets around her like a shawl. 

Maester Marwyn entered and bowed quickly to her amusement. The man rarely offered courtesies and he chose the middle of the night to offer his largest yet. 

“Princess, I would like to speak to you of something...delicate,” the maester stated and at her nod to continue, he pulled a stool from the side and sat. 

“It is about your health. I wanted to know if you had..frailty issues as a child or when they began?” 

Elia froze at the question and wondered why he was asking. She worried constantly that she would fall ill before the children were raised to do what was necessary. 

“I had a wasting sickness when I was a child, but came through. The Maester’s thought I would bear no lasting issue to the disease, but after Rhaenys’ birth I fell ill and never seemed to recover. They told me from the beginning that I was unlikely to carry Aegon to term and Pycelle had me taking medicines morning and night to try and sustain my pregnancy,” Elia finally answered and was not encouraged at the way the man seemed to hold his head down. 

Finally he put his head up and reached into his robes. He pulled out two vials. 

“Princess, I believe you have been consistently poisoned. Probably ever since Rhaenys conception. You were in good enough health to carry her to term before they could take effect and when she was a girl they continued,” Marwyn quietly told her and Elia felt as if her world broke a little. 

“Aegon?” she whispered, “They killed Aegon?” 

Marwyn nodded, “If I am correct, then Pycelle certainly made it so Aegon would not survive his first breath. If I am correct then this should start to purge your body of the toxins they gave you. This one should purge it and this one will protect you from the parasites upon Valyria. I will give everyone else doses closer to our arrival, but I think we should allow your body longer to absorb it and start to heal.”

Elia, to her horror, found she was shaking as she reached out to take the vials. Marwyn handed them to her, with an indication which was first. She carefully uncapped it, unable to stop the tears in her eyes, as she looked back at him. 

“Why? Who employed him?” she asked, unable to stop the bitterness in her voice. 

“My father, Princess. It had to be,” Jaime’s voice drew her attention away from the bottle and to the kingsguard to whom she owed the most. 

She hiccupped as she tried to force the tears away, “Did he hate Aerys so much that he had to kill my child?” 

Jaime shook his head, “He might have hated Aerys, but above all he wanted to place Cersei as Queen and position the Lannister’s into the bloodline. He would have done anything and I know Pycelle was often in his pocket during his time as Hand. My father arranged his...entertainment.”

Elia had been angry before. She had felt fury. Her heart had broken when she lost Rhaegar and then again when she lost Lyanna. She did not think she had ever felt hatred, though. Hatred and a need to destroy someone so completely. Now, her hands shook in anger. She tipped the bottle up and drank it down, feeling an increasing burn as it settled into her stomach. Without another thought to it, she did the same with the other. 

Ours is the fury, indeed, she thought to herself. She would see Baratheon and Tywin Lannister tumble to the ground, house ground back into the dirt from whence it came. They would pay for what they did to her family.

She looked down when she felt hands on hers and looked up to find Jaime Lannister staring at her, tears in his own eyes, to her surprise. 

“I swear, my Princess, that my father will pay for what he has done to you,” the boy promised and Elia found no need to swallow the betrayal lodged inside her, because his eyes matched her hurt to hurt. 


	2. Zaldrīzoti sīmonagon hen ñuqir - Dragons rise from ashes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dragon's rise from ashes. A new home is found and made safe. The children grow and preparations begin.

“What about stonemen?” Arthur asked as they sat around the wooden table that had been set up in Ashara’s room to keep her from moving from the bed to plan alongside them. Lyanna was currently resting easily beside her mother in a basket turned bassinet. 

Elia looked around at the men and women that for all intents and purposes made up the current small council. Kingsguard, a handmaid, a princess regent, and a maester that most called crazy. 

Marwyn looked up and glanced around before glancing back at the room that held Lyanna’s still body. He’d been changing out some sort of wrapping around her form that smelled of vinegar and potatoes of all things. Elia had no longer been able to handle going in the room as Lyanna seemed to look less and less like herself, a husk of what was once so alive. 

She wanted to remember her as she had always been before. 

_ The tourney was not where Elia wanted to be, but Aerys had given no choice about her attendance.  _

_ She felt weaker than she’d ever been and the child in her belly moved rarely and it scared her. The maester said some babes were just slow, but Elia already could feel ill tidings. Something was wrong.  _

_ “Princess, should we join your husband?” a voice asked behind her and she shook her head at Ser Arthur and opened her mouth to speak.  _

_ “Stupid, oaf of a man!” a voice swore and Elia looked up as a young woman stomped into the narrow divide of tents where she had slipped into herself to breath before moving to the next set of courtesies.  _

_ The girl was young, but not childlike. Plain, but pretty. She wore an ill-fitted dress and her hair was tied back in a braid. Her voice had a thickness that made Elia think she was of the North.  _

_ “Are you alright?” she found herself asking and bit back a smile as the girl swung around and almost tripped over her skirts. She stood gaping like a fish at Elia.  _

_ “Your Royal Highness, I apologize...I did not know this...way was occupied,” the girl stuttered over the words and gave a very lopsided curtsy.  _

_ “What is your name?” Elia asked curiously.  _

_ “Lyanna, My Princess, my name is Lyanna Stark,” she answered.  _

_ A Stark, the daughter of the North, newly betrothed of her husband’s cousin, Robert of House Baratheon, Elia quickly put together.  _

_ “And who is this oaf of a man who has perplexed you so?” she could not help but ask and the girl turned a truly brilliant color of scarlet. Elia was surprised to find herself a bit enchanted by the ill put together northern girl.  _

_ “Come, Lady Lyanna of House Stark. Come join me. My ladies are walking among the tents and greeting bannermen and other’s, my husband is seeing to his father, and I find myself quite bereft without company,” Elia held her hand out to the girl and was pleased when the blushing maid placed her own in it.  _

  
  


Elia snapped out of her memory. 

“Royal blood, blood of Kings, is very powerful. It’s one of the things those red priests in Asshai have correct, red god or not. We will create a safe place with fire and blood magic. I believe it’s why Rhaenys reacted so badly to leaving the...Princess Lyanna in Westeros, from what has been explained to me,” Marwyn explained. 

“But she has no Targaryen blood?” Jaime said after everyone stared incredulously. 

Marwyn shook his head, “No, she did not, but she has the blood of the Kings of Winter and whatever else can be said of the current Stark in Winterfell, their blood has ruled the North since before Aegon Targaryen was ever a glimmer in his mother’s eye nor when Daenys dreamt the doom. Stark blood has magic beyond all others, except perhaps the Targaryens. I believe we will see impossible things from his grace before we are done with this life.” 

Elia was not sure she liked the idea of this news, but they were beyond another choice now. There was something else behind the maester’s words. She felt like he knew something about Jon that he was not sharing, but there was no time to squirrel it out now. If all went as planned she would have years to figure out what it is Marwyn thought was happening with the king. 

“So, we make land and work our way into the center of the city,” Gerold pointed at the crudely drawn map built from all of the sailor’s on-board minds and Marwyn’s knowledge. 

“Then we make our way to this building that you say is definitely there,” Gerold cut his eyes to Marwyn. 

Marwyn just stared back placidly, “The great hall of the Dragonlord’s was said to be in the middle of the Valyrian city and by all reports from the few that have gone and returned, is still to be standing. No one has made it that far into the city without retreating though. That is where our challenge lay, making it to the middle of the city.” 

“Oh, well, if that’s all then what are we waiting for,” Ashara said sardonically and Elia resisted the urge to kick her beneath the table. 

Apparently Jon felt her irritation as he latched harder onto her breast beneath her shawl. There had become a severe lack of privacy after they had settled on their journey into the islands and the men aboard had begun to look suspiciously upon their travelers. The kingsguard had not allowed any of the royal family from their sight. 

“Shh, sweetling, shh,” she murmured as she rocked gently and considered what had been laid in front of her. 

There was nothing for it, though. They had been led this way, by gods or by magic, and even Elia feared what would happen if they tried to turn back. 

“There is nothing left for it, but for bed. You said we will be at the place to make port in the morning, yes?” she asked the captain of the ship who had joined them for this meeting and one of the few men she trusted explicitly as he was of Dorne and closely known by Oberyn. 

“You know what is to happen after?” Elia asked as she stood. 

“Yes, my Princess. We will sail to Pentos to find Rhaella and the children and bring them to you post haste with whatever loyalist we discover,” the captain answered. 

Elia hummed in approval, but stopped after a moment, “There is something else. I need you to send a trusted man to North Westeros...no, Oswell, I need you to go North.”

“Princess?” Oswell asked, confusion in his voice. 

With an apologetic look to Ashara, Elia went on, “You are a close relative of Catelyn Tully, correct?” 

Oswell nodded, “I would not say close, Princess, but her mother was my cousin.”

Elia mused this for a moment, “I want you to go north and speak to Benjen Stark and you must make haste. You will be able to blend in much easier than any of the other guards, barring possibly Jaime, but he must not return for his own protection. Benjen knew the truth of Rhaegar, Lyanna, and I. Do your best to bring Benjen back with you and I want all of you to train him as a kingsguard. When we plan to return, we will need every connection we can possibly mustur against the Baratheon’s.” 

“I will do as you say, Princess,” the man told her, gruffly, and Elia could hear the fact that he went only because she ordered. She twisted her lips slightly. The men didn’t need to like her orders, only follow them. 

Turning she repositioned Jon and slipped into the back room with Jaime, her most often guard at her back. She gave him a smile and slipped Jon into his own hastily converted bassinet and went to kiss her daughter’s forehead. 

“Muna? Daenys says we are going the right way. A wolf howls in loss in the north and needs to be reunited with a pup. A dragon queen gave her last breath, but dragon’s go with the plowman to the slave’s secret city. Soon the bastard’s strong arm will rise, rise with the dragons like the flames of old,” Rhaenys mumbled and Elia inhaled as she thought of what her child had just said. 

Slaves' secret city? Braavos. It could be nothing else. The plowman had to be a Darry, possibly Ser Willem? He had been with the dowager queen. They would have to reimagine their plans only slightly, but this could work even better. It would allow time for Oswell to retrieve Benjen Stark. More and more, Elia was convinced this was the right path to follow. 

A kingsguard was made of seven. They had four. Ser Willem was too old to take the mantle, but Benjen would make five. Rhaenys would act as heir, then Viserys, then this new child, whatever Rhaella had decided to call her. Rhaella’s death settled in the same place that she had locked Aegon, Lyanna, and Rhaegar in. She could afford no more tears as of yet. There was too much to be done. 

The might of Dorne was all well and good, but it would not be enough. They needed allies and an army. If Valyria truly held untold riches left behind then they could afford to buy one, but even if they bought loyalty they would never find acceptance by the time Jon was returned to King’s Landing. They needed Westerosi men. Sighing she pulled the cover’s back over and contemplated what her child had meant by the strong arm of the bastard’s. 

Finally she laid down, never knowing the answer would be brought at the table the next morning when they prepared to set off. 

* * *

Elia stared at the Lord-Commander in confusion. 

“What do you mean you should leave and begin to build the army?” she asked bluntly. 

Ser Gerold sighed into his hands, “My Princess, I have been thinking about it ever since we began this journey closer to Valyria. When you mentioned sending Oswell to the North and with the rest of the crew going after Viserys and his sister, I have been thinking that we should begin building a strongarm for the King when he is ready. I will be able to build a sellsword company. The kingsguard has coins in the Iron Bank specifically set aside for only a Targaryen king. We should establish his grace’s birth with them immediately and then I can begin building an army.” 

“A strongarm, you say?” Elia murmured as she thought of Rhaenys’ words the night before, “The bastard’s strong arm.” 

“Princess?” Ser Gerold asked when she didn’t say anything else. 

“Hmm,” Elia looked up, “Oh, it’s something Rhaenys said in her dreams last night. She said, soon the bastard’s strong arm will rise, rise with the dragons like the flames of old. I’ve been trying to understand it since I closed my eyes and since arising.” 

She looked up when Ser Gerold remained quiet, “Lord-Commander?” 

He cleared his throat and slowly explained his silence, “It’s just, Princess. I thought I might put the word out to Westeros in as many safe ways as possible that my company was looking to commission noble bastards and second and third sons. They often find themselves finding themselves in Essos, unless they are northern and then they might find the wall, but even that has been dwindling in the past years. I thought to call the company, the Order of the Strong Arm.”

Elia couldn’t help but gape for a moment. This was exactly what she had been worrying about. This could work, it could also work for what else she needed to happen. 

“Once we are safe, Ser Gerold, there is something else I need you to do. You will be our main source of contact with my brother’s. They will keep you apprised of when the Stag’s rule begins to fail and it will. On this I have no doubts. This is when we must begin to spread more rumors of House Targaryen’s continued existence. When the lions grow hungry and begin to destroy the stags, it must be to house Targaryen they wish to bring back hope. As much as I am loath to put Rhaegon in any danger before we return, his existence must be done. Be it whispers on the wind or sung about in taverns, his birth and status must spread. I will not have my child, Lyanna’s babe, be called Blackfyre,” Elia finished, an iron in her resolve that she had not known she possessed. 

“Yes, Princess. I promise,” was Ser Gerold’s only response. 

Nodding at him, she stood, “Then Lord-Commander, in the name of Rhaegon Targaryen, I command you to build an army.” 

Kneeling Ser Gerold swore. 

* * *

It was their limited party that entered into the sparsely wooded area of the island, mountains to both sides of them, in the early light of dawn the next morning. Ser Jaime and Ser Arthur the only kingsguard, the Maester who was burning some sort of herbs, two sailors who had been bought to stay and carried Lyanna’s body among three boards bound together, Ashara with Lyanna bound to her chest, and Elia with Jon bound to hers and Rhaenys tucked beside her. 

Ser Jaime and Ser Arthur stood to either side of them as they made their way into the island interior. 

Marwyn stalled after a moment and reached into his pockets and pulled a small bag. He looked around and finally looked over at Rhaenys. 

“Princess, might I ask a favor,” he said as he came closer. Elia looked at him suspiciously. 

“It’s fine, Muna. He just wants me to whisper the magic word and blow the sand,” Rhaenys said as Marwyn poured what appeared to be black sand from the bag into his palm. 

“Do you know the word, Princess?” he asked, unashamedly interested. 

Rhaenys nodded, “Daenys told me. She said to say in and then blow the sand out and we would be protected. She also said it was lazy magic, but that bigger magic won’t work until the big dragons come back to the small dragons. That’s why we have to go to the center where the dragonlord’s were. It’s already magical and won’t take much to work. When big dragons come back we can go further.” 

Elia looked to the heavens, unsure if she wanted to take her child’s words literally. 

Marwyn she could not help but notice, looked ecstatic and began muttering something about showing all the dusty, old fools their inadequacies. 

He lifted his hand up to her daughter and Rhaenys shut her eyes and whispered.

“Mīsagon īlva hen perzys se ōrbar se dōron.”

Then she blew on the black sand. They all watched as it lifted into the air in circles and began to widen the higher it went. Finally it fell back to the ground and vanished into the earth. Rhaenys swayed a little and began to slip to the earth, but Ser Jaime caught her. 

“Rhaenys!” Elia cried, but Marwyn was already there, pressing hands to her neck and to her wrist. 

“She is fine, Princess. Just a bit of exhaustion. Let the knight carry her and when she awakes, we should have arrived. Now, everyone else needs to stay within two arms lengths of one another and should be safe.”

Ashara gave Elia an encouraging smile and they set off again, this time not stopping. There were times when Elia felt eyes upon them, but when she looked around there was no one around. They walked for hours, only stopping to share water from skins the men carried, and the sun had begun to fall behind the trees when they finally began to stumble onto what appeared to be a broken road of sorts. 

It was not much longer that they reached a crossroads and rising from behind the hills and trees and nestled into a ravine, the ancient ruins of the capital city of Valyria rose before them. It was here the Rhaenys finally began to wake and when she squirmed out of Jaime’s arms and toward her mother, she pulled on Elia’s dress till she kneeled down and Rhaenys could see Jon. 

“See, valonqar. We are home and safe. The human mountain cannot reach us in these mountain’s anymore,” Rhaenys murmured and Elia could help but be amused that her little brother tracked every movement Rhaenys made. 

“The human mountain, little Princess?” Arthur asked and Rhaenys tilted her head up to look at the man. 

“Daenys showed me what could have been today, but it’s not going to happen now. She said so,” Rhaenys said and then looked around again, wide eyed. 

“I can see them, Muna. They're not here yet, but they will be,” she whispered.

Elia tilted her head bemused as she stood and took Rhaenys hand as they continued down the path into the broken city. 

“Who, nuha tala?” she asked as Rhaenys tried to hurry them along. 

“The big dragons, Muna. The big dragons will come and then we will go home.” 

Elia was no more comfortable with the prophetic words the second time around than she was the first. 

They made their way into the broken rabble, occasionally a building stood intact, but most of the tall towers were missing the open tops they were rumored to have. It was almost an hour of walking through the debris, the sun almost all the way below the horizon, when they reached the imposing structure that Marwyn had pointed out. 

The building that had housed the dragon lords was circular in design, with a multitude of towers rising from the building proper. The structure itself could have been larger than all of Sunspear, Elia realized as Marwyn led them in an entrance with two odd stone creatures seemingly guarding either side of the door. 

She heard the flint being struck and the heat from the torch before Jaime stepped in front of them. 

“The building should be made up in forty circles, each circle being attached to its own tower, but there should be a way to move directly through the building from this entrance. We seek the center chamber and we must pray that the fire is still burning below from the mountains of fire beside us,” Marwyn instructed and it was silently that the group forged on. 

Elia held tightly to Rhaenys hand as they delved deeper into the building. This time she heard the scampering as well as felt the eyes upon them. 

“Worry not, My Princess. The stonemen will bother us not with the protection placed upon us till the morning’s dawn. We will be well within the safe confines of the central hall by then,” Marwyn soothed as everyone appeared to be on edge. 

It felt as if they did travel through the night, only making Elia more aware of the size of the structure they had sheltered in. The maester had said forty circles of rooms. They must have been miles of space to cover the entirety of the structure. The halls they walked were not narrow by any means and the only entrances or exits they saw was distanced in great amounts from one another. 

They finally reached a large archway, placed in front of them, that led into a large circular antechamber. She turned in a circle at the raised seating all around the room. 

“Where the dragonlord’s would sit to conduct whatever manner of business they had and also argue over who was in charge,” Marwyn said as he moved quickly to the middle of the room after taking the torch from Jaime. 

He went up to a small opening and reached into the crack. Elia saw that the crack was actually a long indention made with purpose as Marwyn pulled his hand out to smell. Then with glee he pressed the torch down into the groove. Elia spun in amazement as the room immediately lit up with a line of fire that traveled through the indention. It was just in time to, as the open air ceiling, probably once covered in glass, showed the sun setting at last. 

“Bring the Princess Lyanna here and the jars,” Marwyn ordered and climbed up to a dais. He seemed to search the sides with his hands, fingers dipping into grooves and holes, till he finally pulled back with a pleased smile. 

Seeming to remember himself and where he was, he looked as the men set Elia’s sister-wife and the jars holding the parts removed upon the dais.

“Princess, I believe it might be best if you, Lady Ashara, and the children stepped back and looked away,” he said, grimacing slightly as he pulled a blade from within his robes. 

Elia looked at him confused and then back to Lyanna. 

“I have to bleed her, Princess. We have to bleed her and then lower her down into the earth. This dais has a mechanism that travels into the bowels of the volcano for which you saw this morning. With any luck the words I will place upon her and the power in her blood will allow enough magic and protection to encompass this building and the surrounding areas. Given the time frame, the earth nearby should be fertile and with the protections, should be safe,” Marwyn had begun to mumble off at the end, but Elia had heard enough. 

She hurried Rhaenys away, Ashara not even needing encouragement, and they faced the rows and rows of stone carved seating. 

Elia swallowed hard at the sound of the fire crackling and flesh being cut with Marwyn’s voice chanting quiet and then louder. After a while there was a turning, crunching noise and a loud bang. This was followed moments later by another bang and the sound of stone sliding back into place. 

“You may turn back around,” Marwyn finally intoned and his voice sounded shaky, much as Rhaenys had that morning. 

He was sitting on the now closed and returned empty dais and Elia swallowed hard at the missing body. Lyanna had been gone for going on three moon’s, though, and she would not be coming back. 

A soft wind blew through the room and Elia jumped in shock as she felt the wind almost wrap around her in a caress. The scent of winter roses filled the room and Elia swore if she closed her eyes, she would see her lost love. 

“It worked, Princess. The magic in the Princess’s blood has activated and wrapped us in a safe embrace her son can grow strong in,” Marwyn whispered, “Now, I think it is time for a nap.” 

With that he shut his eyes and slumped over, starting to snore before Arthur could move to lay him back. 

* * *

Despite Marwyn’s assurances of the safety of the building, Elia felt it best they rested close by for the night. She watched as Jaime and Arthur began preparing a schedule to watch over them and couldn’t help but share a look with Ashara over the protection. 

The next morning Elia woke to Jon crying hungrily. She sat up and stretched, amazed at how her body no longer felt heavy and the lack of her normal pain. She picked Jon up and bared her breast, the boy latching on eagerly. Humming softly to him she sat on one of the stone benches closest to the ground. 

A few moments later Ashara joined her with Lya. 

“Arthur thinks that they should take the extra men in turns today to explore the rings closest. He doesn’t know what they were used for, but he wants to see if there is a way to create living quarters for everyone,” Ashara said quietly. 

Jaime snorted from where he had been standing to the side, eyes steadily trained away from the women. 

“Don’t kid yourself, Lady Ashara, we mainly want to look for valyrian steel. Living quarters come second,” Jaime japed and Elia found herself pleased to see the young knight at ease. When was the last time any of them had truly felt secure enough to laugh. 

“Nevertheless, it is a wise choice. Perhaps, you and he could take turns with the men, looking for treasure...and beds. We will need to speak with Marwyn as well. Our supplies will last us a fortnight if we are cautious, but he indicated that we would find nourishment among this land as well,” Elia allowed. 

She leaned back and allowed herself to relax, finding it easier to let loose of the tension she did not even realize she was carrying. Another soft breeze brushed past her and once again she felt as if she was wrapped in a cool embrace. 

By the time the rest of the men were roused and ready to explore, Jon and Lyanna were both back asleep. Elia watched from beside Jaime and Ashara as the others went out. The slight pout on Jaime’s face made her chuckle and everyone turned and looked at her in surprise. 

Finally, Ashara began to laugh as well and Elia found herself hugging her friend as the implication of their safety finally settled over them both. They would live and their children would live. They would do more than live, Elia promised herself, they would thrive. 

* * *

Oswell Whent was almost completely convinced that he would rather be dead than stay in the North any longer than one more day. He’d made in to Winterfell the day after Eddark Stark had managed to return. He’d hidden well enough to see the new Lord Stark and his very pregnant wife. 

Oswell had already decided that he was not going to be the one to tell Lady Ash when he finally made it back to his king, new kingsguard with him or not. He’d made his way to the brothel in the town and while the madame seemed disinclined to believe he did not want a whore, she’d been all too willing to impart the location of the younger Stark brother. As if he’d could fuck in this cold, what if his cock fell off? It had never been so easy to keep his vows in his entire career as a kingsguard. 

The fact that Benjen Stark, the rotten godforsaken bastard, had been gone all of one day from Winterfell and was riding to the wall to join the Nightwatch. Still, Oswell had his orders, regardless of whether he felt them absurd. 

He traded his destrier for two northern garrons and had ridden fast and hard. He’d managed on the second day to make their trail and by the third he was close enough to hear them. He followed at a sedate distance, making sure not to rouse any

of the guards that traveled with young Benjen. Northern nights seemed to come faster and colder than anything he’d ever felt and the townspeople had said that this was mild for the season. 

Waiting, and praying none of his pieces fall off, Oswell let the fires burn down and slipped easily into the camp. The guards were not horrible, but the war had obviously taken the well trained sons away from Winterfell. These were the left behinds that were years beyond their day or years from their day. 

He’d already spotted Benjen Stark curled into furs, close to the fire. The boy was only five and ten years old, but already privy to the largest secret Westeros sheltered. The only guard they’d left awake went off to the otherside of the camp into the woods to piss and Oswell grinned. 

He picked up the rocks he’d been gathering and slowly started to pelt them through the air. One, two, three and on the fourth the Stark boy sat straight up and looked around. 

“Here, boy,” he hissed out and watched for signs of anyone to rouse. When they did not and Benjen came closer, Oswell stepped out enough for him to see him. Benjen’s eyes widened and Oswell knew he’d been recognised. 

“Ser Whent?” the boy whispered back. 

“Not much time, boy, grab your pack and layer the bedding with this,” Oswell ordered and thrust out the blankets he’d pulled from his own pack. They would not be stopping through the night and they’d steal new ones if they had too, but his gold should hold. 

“I don’t understand?” the boy hissed back, “My sister’s gone...”

“But your nephew lives and I have come to fetch you for his kingsguard. Do you want to protect the last living piece of your sister or not?” Oswell hissed back, he was not meant for these types of things. A sword and standing in front of his king was where he was supposed to be, not out recruiting some green boy who was about to sign his life away without ever getting his dick wet. 

Apparently his words worked though, because the boy grabbed the bundle and hurried to his bedding and thrust them under the covers, arranging it to the best of his ability. He’d made it back and them into the darkness before the guard returned. Oswell watched as the man settled back against a tree and noticed nothing amiss. 

Sighing in relief at something going right in this godforsaken wasteland, he motioned the boy to follow him. 

“Where are we going?” the boy asked for the ninth time, several hours into the night of them riding as hard as a garron could run. They slowed finally and he’d been hounding Oswell ever since. 

“We are going to where Princess Elia and Lady Ashara have hidden away with Rhaegon,” he gruffly responded. 

“But where is that and what happened? I tried to tell Ned when he came home from the war, but he said no letters were ever received and it mattered not anymore,” Benjen responded back. 

Oswell felt his blood freeze momentarily, “Did you mention that Lyanna was with babe?” 

“NO, I was not even completely sure,” the boy immediatly snapped back, “I’m not stupid enough to let that drunkard that stole my nephew’s throne know there was a possibility of a child.” 

Oswell huffed air between his lips, “Thank fuck for that. Now, lesson number one, when a senior member of the kingsguard tells you to just fucking follow, then that’s what you do. I’ll tell you more when it’s time to know more. For now we make to the coast and there should be a ship waiting.”

Benjen glowered at him and Oswell raised his eyes to the heavens. Why did he have to be the babysitter? 

Surely, Arthur would have been better at it. 

He was always better with annoying little shits. Just look at Jaime. 

* * *

They made it to the coast right about the time the word had truly spread about the disappearance of the new Lord Stark’s little brother on the way to the wall. Benjen wanted to send a raven before they left. It had taken Oswell longer than he wished to make the boy understand that while Ned Stark might not be able to stop them in time, whoever sent the raven could easily tell of Oswell and wouldn’t that lead to interesting questions. 

They’d managed to get past the imposing structure that Benjen called the Dreadfort and easily made way down the river that wept into the shivering sea. He’d asked the boy why it was that the Northmen thought imposing structures of stone could keep them warm. He’d been glad to see the boy laugh and tease him back about northmen having ice in their blood and no need of warmth, the stone walls were to keep the enemies out long enough to be brought to heel. 

It was as they traveled the coastline south, in a small fishing camp, that Oswell was ridiculously pleased to see the ship in the distance he’d been waiting on. 

“There’s our ride, boy, we need to set a flame up there,” he said, pointing up at an ocean’s ledge some odd miles away. They made the trek and Benjen helped build the pyre. By the time night set and it was stoked and he’d begun to toss the strange power Marwyn had given him, Oswell could already anticipate the warmth of the southern portion of the sea. 

The flames burst up, higher after tossing in the power, burning almost blue. It was when he saw the same fire burst from the miles off shore that he had them both stamp out the flame. 

“Settle in and wait, boy, it will take them the night’s course to make it. We’ll meet them in the lower lands come morning,” Oswell ordered and leaned back against a fallen log, letting the dream of hotter places and the embers burning down warm his blood. 

The next morning had them meeting several rough sailors he was grateful to remember from their first runaway voyage. They took turns helping row, turning out to be Benjen’s first time at sea, and finally were climbing aboard some odd hours later. 

Oswell and Benjen made it to below deck after Oswell spoke with the captain. Coming to the same room that had held Princess Elia and King Rhaegon on their first journey, Oswell knocked and waited to be allowed entrance. 

Opening the door he slid in with Benjen behind him. 

Ser Willem Darry stood in front of a small blond boy, sitting on the cot, who was holding a tiny baby with familiar ice blond tufts of hair. 

“My Prince,” Oswell knelt to little Viserys and saw Benjen do the same out of the corner of his eye. 

“Ser Oswell,” the little boy said, and he could hear the weariness in his voice. This beyond anything made Oswell feel for the last living son of Aerys Targaryen. They would have to nurture this child and keep him safe, Oswell could already see. The child could not be allowed to go mad as his grandfather and the first would be to see that he understood his circumstances. 

“It’s good to see you Oswell,” Willem said and Oswell embraced the man, “We thought after...then Rhaella and we fled. Your captain has told me many interesting tales.”

“There true,” Oswell told him as they sat around the table, “This is Benjen Stark, uncle to the newborn king and to be the newest member of the kingsguard.” 

Willem nodded his understanding, “I’ve explained the best I can to the Prince, but he is seven and his mother crowned him. He seems most concerned about his sister’s safety, though, and not on arguing about the throne.” 

The men looked over to where the boy was rocking his sister and did not appear to be listening. 

“Well, like you said, he is seven. Where we go they will be safe if all goes as planned and we can nurture the right type of bonds,” Oswell shrugged. 

“Is it true, Ser Oswell? Rhaegar married the Stark woman and she bore him an heir?” Viserys popped up. 

“Aye, your royal highness, it’s for true. He married my sister and she bore him a son before succumbing to her final sleep,” Benjen answered looking at the boy and Ser Oswell opening his mouth to further explain, but the Prince stood and walked over to Benjen. 

“My mother died having Dany, is it because they were weak?” the boy asked looking up at Benjen seriously. 

Oswell raised his eyebrow as Benjen swerved to see the boy, “No, Prince, it is not because they were weak. Look to the child you hold and see how perfect she is. All ten fingers and ten toes, hair, and cheeks rosy with health. Our shared nephew is much the same. Your mother, my sister spent many moons growing these precious baby dragons and a wolf, and gave birth while the world burned around them. Lady Ashara Dayne did the same with my niece, my brother Eddard’s natural daughter. They were not weak, simply had fought as long as one person could.” 

Viserys seemed to think about this, “So they were on a quest to make a king and a princess and a bas...wolf.”

The boy paused and Oswell couldn’t help the shock at the boy stopping from speaking the word bastard, before he continued, “And when they were victorious they died? So they were heroes?” 

The Stark smiled at the boy and nodded. Viserys seemed to accept this after a moment and turned to Oswell and Willem. 

“I want to be a kingsguard and protect my sister and nephew. My mother died a hero and I want to be one, you will train me,” he stated to Oswell and turned to Benjen, “And we will protect our kin together.” 

Oswell felt like he could fall over. The boy had been sheltered to an extreme measure, he’d watched him enough at Aerys order, and if his mother had crowned him then Oswell felt that Viserys would be the one to pitch a fit. 

It seemed that, perhaps, the wolf boy was more of a boon than the Princess Regent knew. 

* * *

The sailor’s seemed ultimately more settled as they made their way through the smoking sea for the third time, twice in and once out. The captain had provided the same potions that Marwyn had administered the first time for the rest of their party and when they pulled into the shadowy land they had docked the first time, it was Ser Willem that seemed most hesitant. Even the wetnurse for Daenerys was more enthusiastic. 

“Come along, Ser Willem, I swear that Jonothar was never quite so craven, or do you plan to stay on the shore till the ship returns in six moons,” Oswell teased as they prepared to make way. He was ready to see his king and his brothers again.

The brother’s that were not seven and five and ten that was. He still knew not what to make of Viserys. The boy had begun demanding lessons the moment they were on the open sea and away from immediate danger. 

Ser Willem and himself, eventually some of the sailors with arms training, began to train Viserys in the beginning of sword craft and strength training. Both Ser Willem and himself had felt the boy would tire of it quickly, but Viserys had surprised them both with his tenacity. More than that was his insistence that Dany not be let out of his sight and if she had to be out of his sight, then Benjen must be present. 

They had decided to leave this situation to the Princess Regent when they arrived. Benjen, for his part, took on the extra responsibility with every type of serious intensity that Oswell was pretty sure the Stark’s had bred into their blood. 

Oswell was pleasantly surprised to find Benjen had not only the basics, but was much more light of foot than most northmen when it came to his training. He felt he would do well fighting with Jaime, though even at three years older than Benjen, was well beyond most his age. 

It had been almost six moons since they’d left, but as they made way down the broken cobbled road, the sight of Marwyn standing in the middle made Oswell stop cautiously. The man broke in a grin and raised his arms in welcome. 

“Welcome, my friends. Welcome young prince and princess of the old blood, Welcome to the safety of Valyria.” 

Marwyn led them down the path and then off the path to a river buried back behind the trees. They were hustled onto a raft-like vessel that one of the sailor’s that had been left behind was manning. 

Viserys was looking around wide-eyed and kept Daenerys clutched to him and leaning close to Benjen. He kept looking back at the somber youth who had his own wide-eyed reaction going on. They traveled on several hours before coming into a mouth of the river that led up to set’s of massive broken stone structures. It was beneath one of these structures that the raft carried them and then down a narrow path. 

“Dragons,” Viserys whispered as he looked from side to side at the gigantic heads that seemed to loom over the travelers. 

They dipped over a small drop and even Oswell couldn’t help but gape as they came upon the city. 

“It took us twice as long when we came through the first time, but we discovered the canals came all the way down, close to the coastline of the island. It’s allowed us an easier and safer way to traverse through the city and parts of the island. The blood magic keeps us safe within a certain amount of parameters. The King’s Circle is completely protected and inhabitable with more than enough room,” Marwyn said as they came to a stop by a small dock. 

The other sailor that had been left behind helped bring them in and Oswell was surprised to see Arthur standing aside. 

“Brother,” Arthur grinned as they clasped their arms before turning and kneeling in front of Viserys and Daenerys. 

“My Princess and Princess,” he said quietly, “Your aunt and nephew await you in the circle.” 

“The circle?” Viserys asked and Arthur pointed at a large structure some odd ways away. 

“Aye, our home for the time being. Princess Elia calls it the King’s Circle and the truth of it is that it is larger and grander than anything I’ve ever seen,” Arthur explained as they walked away. 

“It’s safe though? For Rhaegon and Dany? We can keep the bad people away?” Viserys asked, stress in his voice. 

Arthur looked to Oswell with an inquiring look and Oswell sighed, “His royal highness is very concerned for his kin’s safety. He is intent on being a kingsguard to his nephew.” 

Arthur’s eyebrows raised and Oswell didn’t think he had ever seen the man look so surprised. 

“It was good enough for Prince Aemon,” Viserys said stubbornly when no response was forthcoming and after a moment, “And then Benjen will be my brother for true and help keep our kin safe. They have to be safe Ser Arthur.” 

Ser Arthur knelt down suddenly and seemed to look into Viserys eyes. 

“If you work hard, don’t shirk your training, and listen to everything we say, then I promise, if Rhaegon gives his blessing, the day we mount our campaign to take back the throne, I will wrap the white cloak around you myself,” the morning star told the young prince. 

Viserys looked at him wide-eyed, “I promise...no, I swear. I swear I will do all you ask.” 

Arthur gave a nod and stood, “Well then, my young squire, we should probably see to meeting your nephew.” 

Oswell groaned as Viserys followed Arthur like a little duckling, only stopping long enough to yell at Benjen to hurry up. 

Oswell pursed his lips and looked to Benjen, “I guess that means you're stuck with me, squire. Get to moving!” 

Benjen grinned, not at all put out with his grouchiness, and hustled after the others. 

Oswell looked up again. He was going to start praying to the mother if she kept giving him children to manage. 

**Twelve Years past the Battle of the Trident**

* * *

Time turned faster than Elia could have ever expected.

They had explored and gathered resources over the years. Through the trusted dornish captain who was now a true part of their loyal regime, the jewels, gold bullion, and artifacts were sold or stored with the iron bank. Ser Gerold raised their army and slowly over the years more and more came to know the truth. 

The stag struggled to feed his people and his lords argued amidst themselves for resources and favor from a crown that was slowly going bankrupt. The people suffered and the lions rejoiced. Quietly and carefully, their people out in the masses had begun to spread word of Rhaegar’s hidden son, the sleeping dragon. 

Their small group had blossomed over the years. They rounded to ten and five with the people that lived in the King’s Circle and when Ser Willem Darry passed, having been with them for ten years, he asked his bones and blood to be interred to the earth as her wife’s had years before. 

It would be done tonight, Marwyn saying that he wanted to take the time to check his calculations and words. He’d found so many different scrolls and books over their years. The clanging of metal drew her attention away from the dirt she was currently moving from around the latest seedlings brought from Bravos. 

She stood and dusted her hands off onto her the apron wrapped around her and moved to observe Jon and Viserys spar. Benjen standing to the side and occasionally offering comment. 

“Come on, nephew, you can press harder than that,” Viserys grinned and Jon’s eyes narrowed. Elia shook her head at their antics as Jon lost his concentration again to the taunting and the blunted blade went flying. 

Jon hung his head, but Benjen and Viserys both moved to his side to work him through what went wrong. Jon’s temper as always got the better of him. It was with relief as he grew that it became apparent his temper was born of the northern wild’s from his mother and not the crazed bloodlust of his paternal grandfather. 

It was Viserys that could make her heart stutter at times with his intense devotion to Dany and Jon. She feared what would happen should either of them be harmed. Marwyn had suggested a Moonsinger from Braavos should be brought to help ease the craze from Viserys’s mind as they were well known in the healing mind arts, but Elia could not bear to bring the ancestor of a slave back to the place their people had escaped. Rhaenys had dreamt of the moon singing the night they had been discussed, before breaking into pieces and drowning the rest of the Valyria with them on it. No one had dared argue after that. 

Instead, after great debate, Arthur went on one of the six month to the day excursions that had become an established routine. He had returned at the end of that excursion with a tall, willowy woman who claimed to be from a place called Lengii. Her name was Katori and Arthur told Elia that evening after their return that she had found him. Apparently she dreamt that she was to be the first of her people to leave their home in hundreds of years to travel to where the dragon’s were humbled. 

She had immediately begun teaching Viserys something she called the silencing of the mind and the choice of destiny, which involved a lot of sitting quietly in contemplation and clearing of the mind. Then she’d began teaching Rhaenys how to control her walking in the dreams and to seek out information rather than have it thrust upon her. Daenerys was having dreams as well, but Katori felt they were different than what Rhaenys was experiencing. 

Rhaegon, however, Rhaegon she called blessed of the gods, the prince that was promised, and she urged them to seek out a red priest or priestess to bring to Valyria. That her ancestors, the old ones, saw something even older in his blood. Something from the dawn of time. 

So it was with that in mind that Jaime and Benjen were sent out on their first journey since coming to Valyria. They had returned the year before with a priestess of the red god R’hllor named Melisandre. Katori had stared at the woman after they returned and Elia had watched as they disappeared into the circle quarters that had become Katori’s. She’d had the distinct impression that Melisandre was not what the Lengii woman was expecting. 

When they exited some odd two days later, the red priestess had immediately come to her and promised to be of as much service as she could and thus they learned of the prophecies and the song of ice and fire. 

To have Rhaegar’s beliefs come back around after so many years, Ellia felt her heart would burst under the strain. Was it not enough that Rhaegar and Lyanna had to be taken from her and that their son would have to fight for his rightful throne, but now he must fight for the gods? 

For the dawn and all mankind? 

“Muna?” the sweet sound of her son called and she turned to find Jon coming over to her, “Are you alright?”

She smiled softly, “I’m fine, my child. Just tired from the heat of the day. Where is your sister?” 

Jon smiled back, “She went with Ser Jaime to the library, Muna. She said that she remembered the book she dreamt.” 

Elia nodded, used to her daughter’s strange behavior and knowings. Rhaenys at six and ten had blossomed into a beautiful princess and Elia often felt the twinges of guilt in knowing her daughter would wait years before she could fall in love and live her own life. Rhaenys usually just shook her head and placated her mother. 

_ “I’ve known my husband since the day he was born, Muna. He just knows me not as of yet. It will not be much longer, only three years till the return.”  _

The idea that Rhaenys had also foreseen the day they would return also made fear well up in Elia, but there was nothing to be done about that. She had known it was coming, but a part of her wished she could keep them here forever, in this lost but safe land of smoke and magic. 

“We are going to inter Ser Willem to the gods tonight?” Jon asked her as he offered her his arm and she allowed him to lead her back inside. 

“Yes, my son. To any and all gods that will guide his journey to the afterlife and any and all that offer us protection here among your ancestral home,” she said as they made their way into the interior. 

The inner circle that had become the royal quarters they called Lyanna’s Crown, much to Jon’s cousin’s amusement. The little half Dayne and half Stark child was wilder than the wolves themselves and Benjen swore it was the way of northern women. Daenerys and Lyanna were closer than if they had been kin themselves, instead of blood of blood. They shared quarter’s and took all their lessons together, including the sword and bow with the kingsguard. 

“Namar?” Elia raised her eyebrow as Viserys met them at the entrance of their quarter’s. Jon waved to his uncle before disappearing into their quarters, probably to bath and change. 

It was not often that Viserys referred to her in familial terms, usually preferring to go the way of the kingsguard and speak of her as Princess Regent. 

“It will be okay, regardless of when we go back, I promise. I know you’re worried about what will happen, but I won’t let anything happen to any of you,” the boy solemnly promised. 

Looking at him again, she sighed, not really a boy anymore either. Viserys had grown into his own and at nine and ten years of age, resembled Rhaegar more and more. He trained morning, noon, and night. Only Daenerys or Jon could pull him away. He was fond of Lyanna and Rhaenys, but didn’t fixate on their safety as the others. 

“I know, nephew. Your mother would be beyond proud, Viserys, never doubt that,” she told him gently, cupping his cheek. 

She watched the boy blush and move away, “By your leave, princess regent, I am going to see if Daenerys and Lyanna need anything.” 

“You may go,” Elia murmured. 

She watched him walk away and thanked the gods for the blessings of the family she had been left with. 

It was closer to the evening meal when Jon came rushing out of wherever he had been hiding. 

“Muna, Rhaenys!” he barely managed to exclaim before rushing past her. Elia quickly chased after him, Arthur and Benjen joining them the moment he had burst from the circle. 

They followed him out and Elia watched in horror as he took off down a street towards what they called the breaking mountain. It was something Marwyn called a volcano and he said it had been part of the eruptions that had destroyed Valyria in the doom. They had discovered the smoking insides on one of their explorations, the kingsguard going deep into the caverns. Marwyn had declared it off limits upon their return as they choked and hacked. It had taken Oswell month’s for his cough to go away. 

She was cresting the hill when she saw to her horror, Viserys and Jaime both carrying Lyanna and Rhaenys and running from the mountain, Daenerys hurrying behind them with a bag. 

“Rhaenys!” she cried out and it was only Ser Arthur pulling her back and motioning them back to the circle and to Marwyn that made her not demand an explanation. 

Marwyn looked up as they burst into the large room he’d claimed for his studies and he took one look at the girls and motioned for them to be placed on the table. Elia felt Arthur hold her back as the man tutted over the children, holding their heads back, and leaning over to listen at their hearts. 

“They are fine, Princess Elia, just out of breath,” Marwyn said and turned to Viserys and Jaime. 

“What were they doing in the mountain?” he demanded and Elia turned to hear this as well, her eyes hot. 

“They were supposed to be in the middle glass garden’s, like they usually are. Viserys came to find them and we began to look. I’m sorry, Princess, they must have slipped out the otherside,” Jaime said, his voice broken. 

“We followed Rhaenys. She told Ser Jaime she was lying down but we saw her going up the hill, so we told Ser Jaime we wanted to play in the garden knowing we could leave,” Daenerys said quietly as all eyes turned on her. 

Viserys opened his mouth and Elia could already hear the harsh words he was going to say, so she interrupted before he had a chance. 

“What was she doing, Dany? Why go into the mountain?” she asked, her voice shaking more than she could control. 

Daenerys held up the bag and set it on the table, “Because she said we needed this tonight, that it was time.” 

She opened the bag and Elia felt her entire body freeze and wished for Ashara to be here. She regretted her friend going away this last time to meet with Doran and Oberyn. She would never have forgiven herself if something had happened to Lyanna while she had been in her charge. 

Daenerys pulled out three large multi-colored stones and Viserys breathed in hard beside her and Jon, her sweet Jon, reached out immediately and caressed a pale blue and black one. 

“Are they…” she could barely say the question, but Daenerys answered anyways. 

“It’s time to wake dragons from stone.” 

* * *

Elia stood behind her daughter, son, and niece as they watched Marwyn prepare Ser Willem. Rhaenys had told her upon awakening that it was not the blood of Ser Willem that would wake the dragons, though his sacrifice of the last of his years to protect them would aid in the magics they would be awakening. 

It was the blood of the dragon that would birth dragon’s back into the world. She had looked right at Elia and told her that this was what they had been born for and that her mother could not interfere with what was going to happen. 

Elia had been less than happy to learn what that was. 

All three of the babes she had raised, minus a wolf, stood holding an egg each. Rhaenys had also spent a good amount of time upon awakening with Viserys. Elia did not know what was said, but Viserys had walked away looking slightly sad, but resigned. 

Rhaenys had simply told her that not all small dragons were dragonriders. 

Marwyn stepped away from the dais and the three moved almost simultaneously to take his place. Elia tried not to pay attention to the cuts that were now bleeding free from the man, it being too reminiscent of what her Lyanna could have looked like so many years ago. 

The three sat their eggs down and held their hands out, palm up. Rhaenys pulled the blade she carried from her belt and slid the blade into her palm. Elia closed her eyes and swallowed hard at the sight of her child’s blood. 

_ “Blood, Muna, blood and fire. Those are our words and they mean as much as Unbowed, Unbroken, Unbent. They mean something, but they are also the directions, Muna. We are Targaryen and Fire and Blood must be brought.”  _

The sound of the grinding stone caused her to open her eyes and she watched as the dais went down into the ground like it had all those years ago. The difference this time was the eggs and her children’s blood went with it. 

They stood quietly, almost in a trance, and waited. 

In the quiet, Rhaenys suddenly gasped and swayed, Daenerys and Jon right behind her, and they all grabbed on to one another, holding each other up. 

The stones ground together again and the dais began to lift back up. Elia’s eyes widened, even though she had technically known what was going to happen. Three dragon hatchlings sat upon the dais and immediately came towards the children, who in turn, rushed towards them. 

Looking over to Arthur and Oswell, Elia swallowed hard. 

Pictures of Aegon and his sister-wives were going through all of their heads. 

**Fifteen years past the Battle of the Trident** .

* * *

“I am Rhaenys of House Targaryen and I have come to fulfill the pact of ice and fire,” Rhaenys said as she stared in the looking glass. 

Growling at her inability to make the words sound right, she allowed herself a moment to flounce down onto the pillows. She gave herself all of that moment to feel sorry and then she forced herself back up and tossed her braid over her shoulder. 

A simple northern braid. That’s what she had been trying to reproduce but if often came off as bushy and uneven with her curls. Benjen often laughed at her, but indulged her desire to know anything and everything of the north. He teased her without mercy about naming her dragon Branexes after Bran the Builder, but she dreamt of her future almost every night. 

Saw the man she would marry and the people she would be responsible for. Saw their children and their children’s children, and so on for thousands of generation’s till the third age of heroes came and went. She saw beyond the dreams of Daenys and Rhaenys knew that when the end of her dreams finally came to pass, then a new dreamer from the blood would be born. 

For as long as history had been lived, a dreamer had seen it so. 

At least that’s what Katori taught. 

_ “The Lengii of the old blood remember, little princess. Long before the world was broken apart into pieces, before the great empires of the dawn were built, all people were something else. They were pieces and parts of all the later peoples and when the world broke, each evolved in their own way to what we have today. My empress, in all of her wisdom, was gifted the truth of the dreams...much like young Daenerys, and through this she knew that a new dreamer would be born....for as long as the world has existed, the dreamer of time has seen it. Daenys was the last, Viseria before her, and Belondon before her. Lengii do not isolate from the world to hide, we isolate to protect the truth. I was sent to guide and protect you, young princess, and that is what I shall do.”  _

For a girl of nine and ten, she felt it was quite often unfair for the gods to burden her to be the ultimate compass that would set two great families on their path till the next great age. The gods had never answered her directly on her complaints, however, they did seem to reward her service. 

“Rhaenys of House Targaryen...no, I will be Rhaenys of House’s Stark and Targaryen, wife to Robb Stark, Warden of the North,” she stood a tried again, but the sound of impish laughter had her swirling around. 

The side of her dress caught the edge of her table though and she tripped. Grabbing onto the table, she cursed the clumsiness the last two inches of height in her final growth spurt from child to woman had endowed upon her. 

“Oh, dear, future good-sister of mine, might I impart some wisdom upon you,” Lyanna Sand, as wild as any wolf, leaned against her doorway grinning at her. 

Rhaenys resisted the urge to raise her voice in ire at the younger’s teasing, “And what would that be?” she finally asked cooly. 

Lyanna came up to her, serious all of a sudden, “You should stop worrying so much. He will love you. Who would not love you?” 

Rhaenys blushed, unable to hide the reaction, and smiled at the younger girl, “Thank you, Lya. He will love you too, as well as all of your other siblings.”

Lya’s eyes darkened and Rhaenys knew the girl would be brooding later. None worried more than Lya about how her father’s other children would view her. Not even Jon could make her feel better, Dany could usually pull her from her thoughts, but often it was Ser Arthur and sparring that did the trick. 

“Are you ever going to tell anyone what you’ve seen?” Lya asked after a moment. 

Rhaenys did not even pretend to not understand what Lya was asking. 

“Sometime, but for now, no one needs to know my future husband’s name. They only need to know that I have one, because that is hope for the future,” Rhaenys murmured her answer and then smiled brightly, “Let’s go greet Jon and Dany, they are almost back.” 

Lya nodded and Rhaenys held out her hand and soon they were hurrying out of the circle and towards the dragon’s landing. 

When they reached the area that had been cleared, Branexes was laying off on a large rock in the sun. The dragon opened her eyes to peer at her rider for a moment before realizing that they were not going anywhere. Rhaenys nudged her lazy dragon mentally in annoyance and Branexes just snorted at her before pulling herself up. 

The largest of all the dragon’s, Branexes orange and gold coloring often reflected the sunlight itself. 

The sound of wind being beat against wings drew her attention up and she smiled as she saw Jon and Daenerys descending from two sides of the landing. Both Silverwing and Dreamfyre were of a decent size and all the scrolls indicated they would continue to grow if not restrained. She did not think that any of her fellow dragonrider’s would ever constrain the other half of their very being. It was one of the very few things that Marwyn, Katori, and Melisandre all agreed upon. The dragons being chained and caged is what destroyed the last of Balerion’s, Vhagar’s, and Meraxeses brood’s. 

Dragonrider’s inherently on what made the blood of the dragon. 

Jon and herself were determined to make sure their bloodline’s remembered this when all came to pass. She had not the heart to tell Daenerys that she would never bear a child, though she felt the girl might already be aware with the way Lyanna and she looked at one another. Viserys took no telling, he waited anxiously for the day they left the shores of Valyria. The day he took up the white cloak and joined the men that had trained him since he was a boy as a Kingsguard. Viserys would take no wife and he would father no children. Rhaenys doubted he had the capacity to even lay with a woman, so intent was he upon his self-proclaimed mission. 

Not bothering with courtesies Jon hugged her tightly upon dismounting. Her mother and Ashara had been pushing for all of them to begin growing use to showing the courtesies that would be necessary upon leaving their safe haven. Rhaenys knew that it was important, but it was often hard to relate the annoying brother who constantly followed her around to the young king he was becoming. 

But a king, Jon was starting to resemble, regardless of how often the impish grin made him resemble the child looking to her to share her desert. 

Grinning as they all walked back to the King’s Circle, Rhaenys couldn’t help but think of the dream she’d had the night before where King Rhaegon had finally met and married his longtime betrothed, Arianne Martell. 

Rhaenys dreamed very little of her Dornish cousin who would marry her little brother, but what she had dreamt gave credence to the fact that Jon would never be bored. 

Hearing the roar, Rhaenys looked up to see Branexes flying over them to go hunt. Three more moons, she thought, three more moons and they would return to take back what was stolen.

**The World at Large**

**The North**

* * *

Ned Stark knelt before the heart tree, praying to the gods and asking for guidance. The little white wolf pup that had been the runt of the litter was growing fast and pouncing upon the cricket that surrounded the area. 

Something was in the wind and he didn’t know what it was, but it made every instinct he had stand on edge. 

Jon Arryn dead, Robert on his deathbed, and a messily scribbled raven from his dead foster father arrived three weeks prior to the death tidings. 

_ The seed is strong and I fear they are not his children.  _

_ There was a raven from your sister...burned by Robert’s hand according to Petyr Baelish. There was another from Princess Elia, also burned.  _

_ Surrounded by liars and lions, pureblood lions.  _

_ There was a child. A boy.  _

_ They whisper of him throughout the realm, little whispers carried by little birds. They talk of how people are suddenly being fed that were starving, lawless bandits disappearing, and the three headed dragon being scrawled on walls.  _

_ They talk of a hidden dragonwolf king and the sun that protects him.  _

_ Whatever else happens, do not come south. Your chosen brother will not listen and I fear the influence of the lions in the courts. I fear for the life of wolves and the lion’s teeth if in the den.  _

Ned had scarcely believed that Jon had put it all in a raven, but then if the man suspected he was going to be killed, then he would take whatever action he could to see the truth known. Ned knew this about his foster father with all of his heart. 

When the letter came after his death stating the royal family would be coming to Winterfell, Ned knew without a shadow of doubt the king was coming to ask him to be his hand. It was the rumor’s and his foster father’s warning though that made him impulsively write back, over exaggerating a rash of pox that had begun rampaging through the north. 

When the response came asking him to come to King’s Landing and take the place of Hand in the court, he’d sent an equally deceiving response about being needed in the north. Catelyn had been incensed with his refusal, claiming that his choice would keep their daughter, Sansa, from being queen. 

_ “Cat, I don’t know how to explain it, but I know that nothing good would come from going South. I worry about these rumors concerning my sister. The wind is turning and I would not have our daughters in King’s Landing when the storm arrives.”  _

No response had come from his refusal and the next news they had from the south was that Robert had been hurt in a hunting accident. 

It was the contents of Jon Aryn’s original pleading letter that were going over and over in Ned’s mind. The plight of the smallfolk all over the kingdom’s was no secret, lost harvests to erratic weather and disease taking entire villages had been many a lord’s worry. The coinage and food appearing in the hardest stricken areas and then the medicines were all a grand mystery. It was when the crown began to take credit that the three headed dragon with a dawning sun behind it began to appear sprawled everywhere help was given. 

The whisper’s had started soon after. 

Lyanna Stark’s body had never been found, but a wet nurse from a village near the tower that had been burned swore that she had given birth to a boy. That Princess Elia herself had come to collect the child before disappearing with the last of the kingsguard. 

That Rhaegar and Lyanna had wed and that Elia had given her blessing. That Lyanna and Elia had loved one another as well, though this one was spoken in exceedingly quieter circles. All Ned could think of was that he’d found no body in the ruins of the tower and then his brother had disappeared off the face of Westeros after being spotted near the Dreadfort. 

Then there were the others. 

Arthur Dayne, Oswell Whent, Gerold Hightower, Ashara Dayne, Ser Willem Darry and Aerys last son and a rumored daughter. 

Vanished, seemingly without a trace.

“Ned?” Catelyn’s voice called out to him and he stood to turn to her. 

Her auburn hair glimmered, catching in the light, so very different from Ashara’s. He had grown to care for his wife. It was a steady, reliable type of affection, nothing near the heat and fury he’d felt for Ashara, but comfortable. 

She had bore him five healthy, strong children and it had been years since he had looked at his progeny and wondered what if? What would Ash’s and his children look like? Shaking off the maudlin thoughts, Ned greeted his wife. 

“There’s been a raven from the crown,” she said quietly as she came to him, “King Robert is dead.”

Ned shut his eyes at the words. The words of the raven burning into his mind. 

_ Pureblood lions.  _

What was he supposed to do? Call the banners to ride against a bastard child king? Stand for Stannis as heir? Was he even the heir though? Robert had claimed the throne with his blood from his Targaryen ancestor only because there was not a readily available heir with all those of the blood disappearing? 

If his nephew was real and for true then would this not make him the heir? Even if the children were actually Robert’s? Why had they not brought him north? Did Princess Elia not think he would stand for his nephew? Would he have stood against Robert?

“I am going to spend more time in prayer, Cat. Please tell the children I will see them later this day,” he finally gruffly responded to his waiting wife. 

“Ned, they will call for you to present yourself to the throne to bend the knee. The proclamation that went out heavily suggested it already,” she said as he turned to kneel back to the tree. 

He looked back, “I am aware of what will be coming, Cat, and for now I am going to ask my gods for guidance.”

He felt his wife’s eyes burning in the back of his head as he knelt down. 

Looking at the face of the heart tree, Ned could almost feel the judgement from the gods. 

Hours later he stood, knees practically yelling after the disuse, and Ned turned with a resolute mind. The north would fortify itself and prepare just in case, but the north would not go south for a lion. They knelt to dragons and would kneel to no other, though they would not kneel to another Aerys again and from what had been indicated, Joffrey was not far off. 

He slept more soundly that night than he had since arriving at the smoking and smouldering tower in a Dornish desert. 

The next morning Ned brushed a kiss against his wife’s forehead and she continued to slumber. He made his way outside, the white pup at his heels, and rode out beyond the walls. The white wolf was growing faster than any had expected, as were all his siblings. Still Ned could not help but think the wolf was for someone else, not himself. 

Taking a jump over a small stream, Ned slowed as he came upon a cloaked figure. 

“Whoooa,” he petted the horse's neck and slid off the back. 

“Name yourself, stranger, and name your business,” he called out as the figure turned. 

Slowly the figure reached up and pulled the hood away from his face and dropped the cloak from his body. Ned felt his heart as it leapt into his throat at the figure in armor that’s sheen could only be valyrian steel and the white cloak that now fell down his face. 

“Well met, brother. I bring news of the king. The true king, our nephew, King Rhaegon of House Targaryen,” Benjen Stark grinned at his older brother and Ned startled as the white wolf began to howl. 

**The World at Large**

**Essos**

* * *

Ser Gerold Hightower looked out over the army that he’d been building for the better part of the last ten years. He was both proud of the accomplishment and impatient to get to the actual purpose of what they had been created for. Currently he was waiting for the six other officers he’d put in charge over the years. One noble bastard or second son from each of the Westerosi kingdoms. Today they would learn why they had been created. 

Prince Oberyn Martell, stood openly beside him for the first time in their long wait. Everything that had been done in the shadows was time to come to the light. 

“I assume you are not too worried about how this will go?” Oberyn asked after a bit. 

Gerold looked over at the dornish man, “It’s a bit late to worry about that now, my Prince, but I am not worried. They joined our arm to make a name beyond that of their own houses, but all knew there was a reason they were chosen to lead. I have worn the three headed dragon upon my armor for ten years and make no bones to anyone about serving House Targaryen and I am their general. They came to make a name for themselves and they will return as the beginning of the Targaryen host to sit a true king. The same king they will learn has been funding them and feeding them for going on twelve years. Soldier’s tend to be loyal to the person that fills their bellies with mead and meat and keep their cocks wet with women.” 

“A true king with a dragon,” Oberyn said dubiously, overlooking the comment about soldiers. He felt that this was what kept most men happy, not just soldiers. 

“Aye, Prince Oberyn, a dragon,” Jaime Lannister’s voice was teasing as he came about them and even he couldn’t stop the blush when Oberyn looked him up and down. 

Oberyn grinned at him before turning back to look at the men. 

“They look good,” he mused, “I will be honest. I have worried over the years about our chances, but with every passing moon they begin to look better.” 

Gerold couldn’t help the snort. He’d been consistently surprised, ever since the Princess Regent arrived at the tower to fetch them to begin with. 

**Dorne**

**The Water Gardens**

* * *

Arianne could not help but spear her father with a look that had been known to make men twice her age cry. 

“What do you mean I am to be married in three moons? Who exactly am I marrying and making a Prince-Consort of Dorne?” she said coldly and was not at all impressed when her father met her eyes easily. 

“He is not to be Prince-consort as you will not be the Princess of Dorne.”

The words made everything inside Arianne seize up in rebellion. How dare he put her aside? Arianne swallowed the words that she felt and made herself quietly respond. 

“And why do I find myself replaced with a brother? Who shall I marry that will take the sting of my birthright being stolen away? Tell me how my marriage will truly benefit Dorne and make it worthwhile,” Arianna seethed and when her father laughed, she resisted the urge to throw the nearest ornamental vase at his head. 

“Do you think I would replace you, daughter, if what I had planned was not a step up and not down?” Doran responded dryly. 

“Oh, please, pray tell, Father,” she seethed in response. 

“Because a prince will Dorne not make, but a Queenship will be bestowed upon the blood of Martell,” her father mused and Arianne sat down hard. 

She had heard the rumors, even the Spider could not keep all of their agents. 

“You would have me marry a monster who is being whispered to be worse than Aerys,” Arianne found herself asking, not wanting to believe it. She remembered when her father treasured her time and seemed to view his eldest as if she was precious, but those days had stopped after the downfall of the Dragons. 

Now, he was always considering and weighing his words when looking upon her. 

“Arianne,” her father’s voice seemed more somber and emotional than she could remember and when she looked up she was surprised to find herself blinking back tears. 

Stupid. She felt stupid. She had stupidly thought after her Aunt Elia had been crushed by the madness that her father would not barter with her the same as her grandmother had before her. She would not stand for this and made to stand up to turn and march away. 

“Arianne, look at me,” her father ordered and she dared to meet his eyes, “You are to marry the future king, the son of Rhaegar and Lyanna, Rhaegon of House Targaryen. We have waited and planned, your Aunt and I, for so long. You are to marry the true king.”

Arianne swallowed as those words ran through her, “And where is this king?” she finally asked. 

“In hiding, preparing all these long years. Protected by the kingsguard, but raised and taught by Elia. Your aunt has sent you a letter,” was the response. 

Arianne reached out to take the folded parchment her father held out to her. She ran her fingers over the unbroken seal, a dragon with the sun rising, pressed on the paper. 

“This is the symbol that has been going over the realm,” she murmured, “the one the crown is offering a bounty for the perpetrators. As if you can call the generosity of someone feeding and healing the people a criminal.”

Her father just nodded and Arianne ran her fingernail beneath the seal, breaking it in two, and opened to her aunt’s words. 

_ Dearest Niece,  _

_ I suppose you are only now learning of a betrothal made when you were but seven years old. In this I doubt Doran has changed, probably worried about Rhaegon dying of a plague or being discovered before it is time. Do not let the sun grow dim with anger at your father for this. You cannot speak of what you do not know and in this you have been protected. Please take my words to heart, niece, for there will be plenty of fury in the days ahead.  _

_ I know not how to ease you into marriage to a man you do not know, but I can offer you the camaraderie of one who understands. When I was told I was to marry the crown prince, my mother sat me down with both my brother’s and told us we were to protect Dorne with all we were, that was the price of being Martell. That this was the best way to ensure our house’s survival and the survival of Dorne. I tell you this to offer my own advice, as Doran is sure to offer the same as our mother, for that is the burden of the Prince or Princess of Dorne.  _

_ I tell you that should you refuse marriage to Rhaegon that he will not refuse you. He will marry you because I tell him it must be, but he will hear your words over all others. This is the man I have raised. A man who takes his wife’s council above all others. For every report that has spoken of your beauty, your temper, or your political ability, there is another that is told to him of your kindness, your strength, and your acceptance of those around you.  _

_ If you decide to marry Rhaegon, he will never expect you to be anything but Unbowed, Unbroken, or Unbent. He exemplifies the qualities of our house as if he had been born from my womb and he will cherish you as you deserve the rest of your days. Know if you marry my son, you will have a partner, an equal in all things, and never know a day of doubt when it comes to his devotion.  _

_ He is unlike his father in that regard, but a testament to his birth mother. Rhaegar cared not for the consequences of how he pursued what I wished, and that in itself helped to bring his own house low. We are Martell though, and we are of Dorne. I desired Lyanna and she for I, but we paid no mind to the consequences which were wrought from our care. Rhaegon will never treat you as such for a wolf birthed him and Dorne raised him.  _

_ In loving care,  _

_ Your Aunt.  _

_ Princess Elia of House Targaryen and Martell. _

__

Arianne looked up from the letter and slowly folded it, before tucking it inside of her skirt. She looked up at her father and found herself somehow assured by the fact that Doran looked unsure. It had been so long since she’d seen her father anything but planning and dedicated to a path. 

“I will do my duty by Dorne, as I always have, father. I will marry this dragon and I will be his queen,” she finally said, leaning down to press her lips to his cheek. 

“Now, let me be away and to find my cousins. I must prepare to be a bride, it seems,” she said, as brightly as she could muster, and at her father’s nod, Arianne turned and walked from the balcony. 

  
  



	3. Se zaldrīzes zokla māzigon lenton - Rise of the Dragons

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rise of the Dragons. The landing, marrying, and planning.

A thousand whispers in the wind is what Jon felt brushing against him as Dreamfyre dipped and curved throughout the skies. He could just make out the shadow of Branexes and Rhaenys ahead of him and knew without having to turn that Daenerys and Silverwing were bringing up the rear. His Uncle Viserys was behind him and Jon knew he was trying his hardest to remain stoic. 

Viserys tended to be the most serious of all of Jon’s family, but Jon knew that his uncle would protect him, possibly fiercer than anyone else. Even Benjen had a line Jon knew he would not cross if Jon went the way of his mad grandfather. Viserys though...he would burn the world if Jon said it must be done. 

Jon would be forever grateful to his muna and to all the others that had impressed upon him from an early age that above all things he had to be better than his impulses. Katori told him that as king he would constantly hold the scales of mercy and punishment, that the world rarely was measured in good and evil. Jon wanted to be a good king if only to see his family protected and happy, but if the side effect was that his kingdom flourished then he would not turn that aside. 

A squeal in the air behind them made Jon glance back and he couldn’t help but laugh at the sight of his aunt and cousin. 

Daenerys had the look of challenge upon her face, but Lyanna was holding onto the other around the waist and Jon wondered if Daenerys could breath with how tight his cousin’s grip had to be. Giving in to the temptation though, he gripped down onto Dreamfyre and leant down. 

“Rhaegon!” his uncle called out warningly, but he just yelled back to hold on and then they were dipping down faster. The sound of Silverwing’s own wings beating against the wind was loud with Dreamfyre, but not half as loud as the people yelling as they came into the sight of their fleet. 

Flying between the ship’s, sails of the three headed dragon and the sun and spear of Dorne prominent against the flags flying of random houses from all over the kingdoms that had allied themselves with the loyalists. 

Ryger, Darry, Grafton, were just a few among them. 

Smaller houses that could find themselves in large scopes of prominence upon Jon taking the throne. Houses that Baratheon, Lannister, and Arryn had worked hard to tear to the lowest piece of stone foundation. 

So many things were happening and changing upon leaving Valyria for the last time. Jon was not completely sure he was happy about any of it with any changing moment. While Rhaenys and Viserys remembered the land they had left behind, Jon had only known Valyria...Valyria and his family. 

Flying down to the flagship, the dragon and sunrise banner prominently higher than all others, Jon came close enough for Viserys to jump to the ship before he did the same. 

“Your Grace, we are only a half a day journey from Sunspear. Your mother has requested you and your court join her below,” Ser Arthur told him and Jon nodded his understanding. 

“Sōvegon, Dreamfyre. Sōvegon se arghugon se ipradagon,” he released Dreamfyre and sent him to hunt and feed. He saw both Silverwing and Branexes following and joined his sister, aunt, and cousin to go below. Viserys, Oswell, and Arthur following slowly behind. 

Jon pushed aside the excitement he could feel thrumming through him from Dreamfyre, his connection wide open as the dragon enjoyed the thrill of chasing down prey with his siblings. He ducked under the wooden doorway that led into the central room where his mother and Lady Ashara often met with leaders of their standing army. Jaime was standing at his mother’s side. Jon knew there had been a recent argument. His mother felt Jaime should let Jon release him from his vows and take over as Warden of the West. Jaime refused to step aside, stating his place was with her as it had been since the day they fled the Red Keep. 

Jon felt, and Rhaenys agreed, that they both were being incredibly stupid. 

Their mother attempted to send Jaime away because she didn’t want to feel the loss of her love again and Jaime refused to tell Elia why he insisted upon staying. Jon was half a mind to release him from his vows, make him take the wardenship, and send his mother to be Lady of the Rock. 

Rhaenys had made him well aware that forcing a Princess of Dorne to do anything she did not first think of herself, regardless of being his mother, was a very bad idea. She’d referenced the arranged marriage to their father as her example. 

So he’d let the idea go, but had insisted that Arthur assign everyone a permanent kingsguard. Jaime watched Jon’s mother, Benjen would be assigned to Rhaenys, Viserys to himself at his uncle’s assistance, and Daenerys found herself trailed by Oswell. 

It seemed more often than not that his cousin, Lyanna, was her main protector. Jon was still a bit surprised that she had not nagged their uncle to knight her. 

A clattering jerked Jon back out of his thoughts and he grinned as Lyanna slouched down into a chair, her armor pieces loud at her movement. 

The sand-wolf, as Daenerys called her, was brash, fierce, and intelligent. All the best qualities of her namesake, Elia often remarked. 

Lyanna grinned back at him, “Are you ready?” she asked as Daenerys sat beside her, their fingers briefly entwining atop the table. 

Jon shrugged with more casual regard than he truly felt, “Can you truly be ready? Are you?” he asked, a seriousness trickling into his tone. Lyanna grew quiet and he traded a look with Daenerys. 

“She will be fine. We won’t let her be anything but fine. Eddard Stark will be lucky and blessed to have a new daughter such as she,” Daenerys said as her arm wrapped around Lyanna in support. 

His aunt turned to Lyanna and Jon barely heard the whisper, “Remember, wherever you go, there I will be. Nothing else matters.” 

Jon nodded. He hoped his uncle was everything that Daenerys hoped, because that was likely to be his first challenge to remain fair if he was not. 

“Children, shall we have tea together one last time?” Lady Ashara said from the door, his mother following closely behind. 

“Yes,” Rhaenys said with a congenial tone as she took her own seat, before turning and reaching out to grasp Lyanna’s hands. 

“Fear not, dearest friend, for everything shall be fine and I will soon be proud to call you my good sister,” Rhaenys told Lyanna calmly. 

She did not seem to realize everyone had gone quiet and was now staring at her. Jon sighed. Rhaenys had started talking about her husband to be since before he could remember, but she chose now to announce his identity. 

“Starks,” his mother hummed to herself beside him and gave a little laugh, “So much trouble, but worth the headache.”

Jon watched perplexed as Lady Ashara began laughing beside her. 

He would never understand women. 

He could only pray to whatever god would listen that his Martell princess would be patient with him. 

* * *

Time seemed to pass as if blinking, Rhaenys thought as she sat down her cup. 

“It is time,” she quietly interrupted the table. Everyone grew silent and she wished, upon wishing that she could do something to sooth the fears that were running rampant through her family. Still, there was nothing for it, but to go forward. 

It didn’t take any time for the dragons to fly by the side and their riders to mount, this time without the kingsguard. They would fly into Sunspear, welcomed unlike any of their prior ancestors. 

Dorne was family, now, as the future heir would be both of Aegon’s blood as much as of Nymeria. 

Such was the way of the future. Even if no one else saw it besides her.  _ Yet _ . 

She felt the pressure at the back of her head as a flock of ravens flew ahead of them and she pushed it away. 

She would go North soon and her some odd, great uncle would just have to wait patiently in his tree for her to get there. Thus was the agreement when the gods saw fit to save her mother and herself. 

There was much to be done before the war of the dawn became the pressing issue. 

They flew above the clouds, circling the capital city away from the view of the people. Rhaenys occasionally dipped low enough to see where the flagship was and when it finally docked in and she saw the dots of boats reaching the shore, she waved at her brother and aunt. They began their descent slowly, keeping space between them so that the dragons didn’t land too close for them to demount gracefully. Finally when the dragons hit the sand, Rhaenys allowed herself to breathe easier. 

She slid off and took a deep breath as the sands of Dorne crunched beneath her feet. She wondered if her mother was feeling the same overwhelming rush of emotion. 

She slid from the back of Branexes and sharply breathed in the salt air. This was her home, where part of her blood began, and where many thought she’d never step foot into again. Jon came to stand between Daenerys and her. Rhaenys had the odd thought that her brother was resisting the urge to reach out and grasp her hand. 

Slowly and together, the entirety of the non-sworn regnal Targaryen line, they began to walk forward. 

The line that stood before them was the remainder of Rhaenys family and she felt her breath catch as she took in her cousin Arianne. The cousin who would be Queen. 

Their guards and the rest of their Valyrian family joined them as they reached the welcoming. 

“Your Grace, be welcome to the waters and sand of Dorne, Sunspear is at your disposal,” her uncle said calmly and Rhaenys watched proudly as her brother spoke. 

“Dorne is forever the responsibility and pleasure of the blood of Nymeria. Thank you for your welcome and for Dorne’s discretion for this many years. Let me present my mother, Princess Elia of House Targaryen and House Martell, returned to the shores of her birth and my sister, Princess Rhaenys of House Targaryen, Princess of Dragonstone and daughter of Dorne,” Jon responded formally and Rhaenys dipped her head in recognition when her uncle’s eyes crossed over her. 

He smiled after a moment, “Dorne welcomes back its lost sister and her daughter, a child of Dorne. May I present, Your Grace, my daughter, Princess Arianne Nymeros of House Martell, the Star of Sunspear.”

Rhaenys watched this with intrigue. Even though she had seen the meeting in her dreams, there was something incredibly titillating about watching her brother meet his future wife. It was with great surprise she watched Jon step closer, seemingly ignoring the rest of the grouping. He took her cousin’s hand in his and raised it to his lips. 

Her eyes raised at his next action. 

Instead of pressing a kiss upon her fingers though, he turned it slightly and kissed the inside of Arianne’s wrist. It seemed incredibly intimate and voyeuristic. 

“I have awaited this day for so long, my Princess, and I hope and pray that I will prove myself worthy of your regard in our years to come,” Jon said and Rhaenys felt her eyebrow raise. 

That smacked incredibly of coaching from their Uncle Oberyn. 

Her uncle and his paramour, Ellaria Sand, had joined them on their journey from Valyria. She should have known Jon would ask how best to greet his wife-to-be. 

She couldn’t help the grin at the look of surprise on Arianne’s face. She watched, pleased with the display, as Arianne blushed and then seemed to gather her wits about her. 

“I will also enjoy showing you how good of a Queen I can be,” her cousin purred, stepping into Jon’s space. 

Rhaenys bit her lip to keep from laughing at her brother’s face at Arianne’s response. He looked bewildered, then interested, and now besotted. Rhaenys nodded to herself as Jon offered Arianne his arm and allowed the princess to introduce them to the rest of the line. 

* * *

Lyanna Sand did not often find herself in a situation that caused a large amount of discomfort. 

When she was twelve, her Uncle Arthur had begun taking her with him on his excursions for the king. They usually visited the camp of The Strong Arm, the Iron Bank, and various other allies to her cousin king when they traveled to Essos. She’d met the the current Velaryon Lord of the Tides, with his silks and gold brooches, Jon Connington who seemed almost worshipful in his quickness to pledge devotion and struck the same warning cord her in that Viserys had til Katori came, and Ser Willem’s own family House Darry. 

She’d spent time with Ser Raymun personally during those talks at the request of Daenerys.

Dany and Viserys both held a special place for the entirety of the Darry line because of the protection and care Ser Willem had given them over the years. It was House Darry who would honestly profit the most from Jon being placed upon his throne. 

Lyanna was not sure where or when, but she knew that Jon planned honor’s to their house for their service to Targaryen in a time of peril to their own lives and bloodline. 

All of these experiences prepared Lyanna for the looks she would receive as a lady in armor and trained to fight as well as any man. Not just trained, but trained by the Sword of the Morning. She fought for her right to be judged fairly for her skill and not her sex by positioning herself against not only the Strong Arm and Braavosi Water Dancers, but every Westerosi knight she had come across. 

Thus finding herself shocked when standing across from Rhaenys own cousins, all female, and two holding spears while asking her to spar...was slightly embarrassing. She felt a blush raise on her cheeks, before throwing off the hesitation.

She held her hand out for the blunted sword she knew Dany would insist upon. It was not that Dany did not trust Lya’s own talent, but if one of the sand snakes landed a lucky blow, it would not be good for Targaryen and Martell relations, regardless of her cousin’s impending marriage. 

“Truly, blunted blades, are you that craven?” the one called Obara called to her, but it was the one named for her Aunt Elia that she stood across from. 

Lyanna was not to be deterred, “Do you see that small princess standing above us in the rafter’s of this place you call a palace courtyard?” she asked smoothly to the older woman. 

Obara traded a look with her sister, Nymeria, and nodded her recognition, “She is the talk of the Dornish court. All blond, royal, and a dragonrider. All the unmarried men and half the married ones are trying to decide how best to approach the idea of courting her.” 

Lyanna outright laughed at that, “If I were to even accidently allow myself to be nicked, that blond, royal, dragonrider is likely to call down Silverwing and there would be no dornishmen left to try and even gain a smile, nevertheless her favor.” 

Obara and Nymeria stared at her incredulously, but it was Elia who spoke. 

“She would risk so much for her friend?” the girl asked as she allowed her spear to be traded for the blunted blade. Lyanna watched as the girl balanced it and swirled it a few times. It was obvious it was not the girl’s weapon of choice. 

She smiled at her wryly, “Dany and I were born on the same day, almost to the hour for all we can deduce, on two opposite sides of the narrow sea during a storm that had not been heard of before and has not been seen since. From the day that we were united, we have shared all and everything, from mother’s milk to our first caress of lips. She is Daenerys Stormborn and I am Lyanna Sandstorm, born apart but together. Where I go, she goes and where she goes, I go. There is nothing I would not do for her and there is nothing she would not do for me.” 

Lyanna stepped back and gave a small bow before she readied her blade. Elia did the same and Lyanna only had a moment to collect herself when she realized that they were both named for one of the royal mothers. She didn’t have another moment to think because Elia moved on her with a twirling grace. Quickly recalculating her stand and style, Lyanna slipped into the more fluid movements of water dancing and began to parry the other girl’s movements. 

The spar lasted a good bit before she knocked the girl to her feet, blade to throat. Grinned and tossing her hair over her shoulder she reached down to help Elia up. 

“That was very good,” came the compliment from Obara and Lyanna grinned at her.

“Yes it was, but perhaps a more tried opponent,” the sound of Prince Oberyn called out and Lyanna grinned even more fiercely. She looked up to see Dany smiling down at her and Lyanna could not help but feel her heart sing. 

For the first time since they landed, she did not worry so much over the idea that they would soon be flying north. Rhaenys, herself, and Daenerys with only Oswell to treat with the Warden of the North....to meet her father. 

* * *

Ashara glared at Jon and she could tell he was resisting the urge to back down. 

“Ash, what will you do or accomplish if you go with them North? It is going to be hard enough on Lyanna with Lord Stark’s wife and trueborn children,” Jon said beseechingly. 

“So, don’t send her! Benjen should never have opened his mouth to begin with,” she found herself raising her voice and breaking all the rules she had helped place for their interactions with Jon...Rhaegon...upon reaching Westeros. 

He gave her a very unimpressed look and Ashara admitted that they had raised him well. 

“Benjen was asked about you and it would have been deceit to his own brother to not speak the truth. My Uncle is requesting to meet Lyanna himself and he sent his own letter begging me to send her North. You know this,” Jon said steadily. 

“He also sent you a letter, Ashara. I am assuming it is probably still unopened and probably pressed into your jewelry box and treated as if a poisonous viper,” Elia added and Ashara glared at her traitorous friend. 

She sighed in frustration, “She is too young to go alone.” 

Jon raised an eyebrow, “Then it is good she is not going alone, but with Daenerys, Rhaenys, and Oswell.”

“One Kingsguard is not enough to protect them,” Ashara countered and at this both Jon and Elia looked at her with exasperation. 

“I’m sure in the off chance that they are attacked, Branexes and Silverwing will be quite capable of making sure they remain untouched,” Jon shot back and Ashara slumped into a chair, defeated. 

She felt more than saw Jon leave the room and Elia come to take her hand in hers. 

“For all the stories and everything Lyanna and Benjen ever shared, Eddard Stark is a good man. He would never treat his blood badly,” she said quietly. 

Ashara sighed, “It’s not him I worry about. Oh, I think he will be angry at me for not telling him of our Lya, but I think in the long run he will understand and love her as much as I. It is his lady-wife I worry for. I will admit when Lyanna was a girl, I was relieved. I would never have wished a boy to be subjected to a step-mother’s foolish worry.” 

Elia hummed her understanding, “I worry for Rhaenys too. She has been independent for longer than I wish to admit, more woman than girl even when a child, but I send her away from me to marry under the eyes of foreign gods and a foreign people.” 

Ashara dryly laughed, “That’s what we are, then, a couple of dried-up clucking mother hens.”

Elia snorted, “I assure you I am no such thing.” 

Ashara shot her a flat look, “Then why have you not, a Princess of Dorne, a woman strong and true, taken what is so obviously hers.”

Elia reared back as if slapped, “Ash..I can’t...Lyanna…”

Ashara placed a finger over Elia’s mouth, “Is gone and not coming back. Now, I know without doubt she waits for you wherever we go when given to the gods, probably with that idiot dreamer man you both married, but they would not have you forsake yourself a new love who cares for you equally strong.” 

Elia blushed and looked over her shoulder and across the open door that led to the balcony where Ser Jaime had placed himself. Away from earshot but always close enough to protect. For the first time since coming home, Elia started to seriously consider the man. A boy he’d been when they fled King’s Landing, but a girl she had truly been as well. 

* * *

“Don’t stop in the riverlands. Branexes and Silverwing should easily make the trip over that distance before needing to rest,” Jon said as Rhaenys and Daenerys reached Lyanna and Oswell. 

“We know, Jon,” Rhaenys cut her eyes over to him in exasperation, “We will stop only when necessary and will not stay aground long. We should land in Winterfell within the week and will send a raven.” 

Jon nodded and Rhaenys sighed as she saw the worry in his eyes. 

“Fear not, brother. I promise you that everything will be fine. When we next see each other, we will both be old, married people,” she teased and reached up to tug on one of his curls. 

Jon smiled at her and repeated the motion with one of her own. 

“If you are insulted for whatever reason, Rhaenys, do not be diplomatic. Put yourself back on Branexes and return. The same for Lyanna. You are in charge of this, sister, for it is you who is my heir,” he whispered and Rhaenys nodded her agreement. 

“Only for another eleven moons, dearest,” she added just as quietly as she moved to climb onto Branexes, putting her hand down to help Oswell behind her. The Kingsguard snorted, but gamely let his princess help him aboard. 

She looked back to see Jon’s face, pale, and laughed.

“Princess?” Oswell asked. 

“Hmm, oh, I just shared some news he was probably not ready to hear,” she said as she patted Branexes. 

Looking over to Daenerys and Lyanna she waved her hand to indicate they should take to the skies before them. As Silverwing lifted off, Rhaenys couldn’t help but feel butterflies in her stomach. 

“Gūrogon se jēdar, sōvegon, Branexes, naejot Jelmor se lenton, Ropatasōnar,” she quietly instructed and smiled as Branexes took her to the skies. 

They dipped in and out of the clouds, flying high above the ocean to avoid land sightings. They would stay to the sea until the Vale and then they would stay among the mountains before crossing North. 

The North and then to Winterfell, where she would meet her husband. 

The weather turned fairly quickly as they flew northward. It was in a mountain cave in the high reaches of the Vale that Oswell finally deemed it necessary to hunt. He slipped from the cavernous inlet they had discovered high on the mountain and told all three of the women to be on guard and stay behind the dragons, only sending one at a time to hunt. 

Silverwing was currently flying and Branexes lying in front of them. 

“Do you think that we will make it before nightfall on the morrow?” Daenerys asked as Rhaenys worked the flint to get the fire roaring. She could feel the judging eyes of her dragon, but she refused to use Branexes for something so simple. 

“I think that we will need to land, camp, and hunt once more. I would meet Robb Stark on a rested day rather than an exhaustion filled evening,” Rhaenys offered as the flint finally took to the wood and the fire began to burn, smoke filling the area. She leaned down and blew at the base and the fire began to build. 

“Princesses, stay behind Branexes!” Oswell’s voice had them all moving to stand with Rhaenys. Lyanna grasped the hilt of her sword and swung it out, placing herself in front of both of them. 

“What is it, Oswell?” she called out as the man came into the cave, blood on his face and caked into his hair. 

“Mountain clan. Princess Daenerys, can you call Silverwing back?” Oswell said through gritted teeth and Rhaenys narrowed her eyes at the way he was standing. 

“Yes, Ser Oswell,” Daenerys answered quickly. 

Oswell turned to Rhaenys and she realized what he was about to tell her. 

“No, Ser Oswell. I will allow Branexes to carry me out when Silverwing has arrived to take my kin and not before. Where are these men?” she asked when he opened his mouth to argue. 

“I killed the scout, but their archers caught me when I was returning back. They were below and will have to climb to this cave. Probably not much longer behind me though,” he said and Rhaenys narrowed her eyes at his gritted teeth and eyes glazed. 

“How badly are you hurt?” she demanded and knew the answer before he spoke. 

Oswell stared at her, “If the worst occurs, you are to fly back to the King…”

She held her hand up, “Silverwing is here. Daenerys, take Oswell directly into the sky, above the clouds. Fly North as fast as possible, you will reach Winterfell well before we, but do not wait for us to land. Demand guestright and a maester. I believe a Maester Luwin is in residence. You tell Lord Stark that we will be along shortly and I expect my kingsguard to be alive when I get there.” 

“Oswell, do not argue, I am the Princess of Dragonstone, sister to your king, and I am telling you to get on the back of that dragon and go with my aunt, now!” Rhaenys bluntly ordered. 

Silence met her declaration and both Lyanna and herself helped him up and Daenerys behind him. They took to the skies and Rhaenys climbed Branexes, her blood thrumming with fury, and Lyanna climbed behind her. 

“Rhaenys?” Lyanna asked quietly. 

Rhaenys looked behind her at the girl for one second, “Hold tight. We are going to be maneuvering quickly to avoid any arrows.” 

Lyanna hummed her understanding and grasped onto Branexes, tightening her legs around Rhaenys. 

“What are you planning?” she asked. 

“Sōvegon, Branexes,” Rhaenys ordered before addressing the question. 

“They woke the dragon, Lyanna, and I mean to make those that would harm my own know their error,” she coldly responded, “Ānogar se perzys. I will bring them blood and fire.”

They slid through the air as if it was the softest butter for bread and when the men came into view, climbing the mountain, Rhaenys rubbed at Branexes and felt her dragon’s delight at what was about to occur. 

“Dracarys,” she quietly hissed and fire unleashed upon the clansmen. She watched as the fire rained down on the mountainside, long after the men had turned to black husk and fallen from the ledges. Branexes continued to breath fire and the stone became so hot it began to burn red, cracks forming in an almost weblike manner. Rhaenys felt understanding take her and she knew what it was that had guided her to stay. 

She looked up to the sky and saw the darkening of the clouds and then the wet of the rain that began to spill and rush over the molten rock. It quickly began to cool and shine. Rhaenys knew without a shadow of doubt that this would become dragonglass. 

“Sōvegon, Branexes, pālegon jelmor,” she finally told Branexes and he turned and flew northward without issue. She would have to take him back down as soon as it was safe and let him hunt and feed. Her brother and her mother would never forgive her if Lyanna and herself dismounted. They would have to stay astride the entire time and Rhaenys could admit she was faintly nauseous at the idea. 

They flew straight on into the night and stopped to hunt even as the air turned to chill. Their change of clothes and heavier cloaks were with Silverwing, but it couldn’t be helped. They tightened their cloaks as tightly as they could, huddled closer together, and made way to Winterfell. 

It was on the morning after that night that they peaked over a crest to see the turrets and the massive walls of Winterfell. Rhaenys was surprised to find herself relieved and oddly comforted by the fact that they had arrived at what was to be her home. The sound of a roar welcomed them and she felt Lyanna relax behind her as Silverwing was seen rising above the keep. The dragon came to greet them and seemed to lead them in. 

“Tegun, Branexes,” she ordered after Silverwing landed in a large wooded area of densely packed trees. They landed before what she knew was the heart tree of Winterfell with its carved face, a portal of sight for the old gods. She was almost eager as she slid from Branexes and could not help but move towards the face and the inky black pool of water surrounding it. Rhaenys tilted her head, barely hearing Lyanna move behind her, and she knelt beside the water and dipped her hand into the coldness. She looked at the face upon the tree and Rhaenys felt something inside of her loosen and she gasped as flashes of people and places appeared in quick succession before vanishing. 

_ A man swung from a branch, his insides pouring outside of his belly, and his eyes as blank as a clean piece of parchment.  _

_ The headless bodies of his king and queen behind him. The queen’s head severed to the side, but white skin still translucent and cold blue eyes open.  _

_ “Vows, from this day forth, the Night’s Watch will follow no kings and father no children,” a King astride a large wolf spoke in a booming voice.  _

_ “Thus was the agreement made between the Winter King, the King-Beyond-the-Wall, and the Nightwatch. This agreement will hold until the great other rises and the long night comes again. Only the King who brings the dawn can release the oaths,” a man in robes intoned beside them.  _

_ “Once is the death of a traitor. The first traitor to all men,” a void voice intoned even as a small child with golden skin fled beyond the wall of ice, a male child with translucent skin and ice blue eyes tucked against it’s chest.  _

**_Flash. Forward._ ** __

_ Jon, but not as she knew him, dressed in black with heavy furs and standing before another face and tree.  _

_ “ _ _ Night gathers, and now my watch begins. It shall not end until Night gathers, and now my watch begins. It shall not end until my death. I shall take no wife, hold no lands, father no children. I shall wear no crowns and win no glory.l my death. I shall take no wife, hold no lands, father no children. I shall wear no crowns and win no glory.”  _

_ “The song of fire and ice cannot be allowed to fail again, wind the clock, give the boy’s sister the dream of all coming ages,” the void voice spoke again, “She must be the one of three eyes. She must become the raven. The eyes of the future will lead her North, the eyes of the past will bind her to her duty, and the eyes of the present will light the flame.” _

_ Rhaenys felt her breath leave her as she watched a young boy climbing a broken tower, falling, but standing up and running again. She saw the same boy grow to man and kneel in front of her brother, sitting on the throne of their forefathers, and being knighted by Benjen.  _

_ Another life saved.  _

**_Flash. Back._ **

_ Rhaenys fell, further and further into the past, images and people flying past her.  _

_ A woman and a man before another tree and holding out their hands with a rope being tied between them.  _

_ “Who comes before the old gods?” a voice called out.  _

_ “Arya Flint, a woman pure and ready to wed,” the woman answered.  _

_ “Who comes to claim her?” the voice called again.  _

_ “Rodrick of House Stark,” the man answered.  _

_ The sound of the void voice returned, “Twice, the covenant begins anew.” _

_ Another wedding, this time in the southern heat.  _

_ Rhaenys father and the woman she knew had to be Jon’s mother. Lyanna Stark was beautiful. The septon wrapped their hands in cord and they spoke their vows to the Seven.  _

_ She watched as Lyanna smiled over her father’s shoulder and Rhaenys looked to see her own mother smiling back. Neither paid any attention to her father, their eyes only upon one another.  _

_ “Thrice, a promise fulfilled into the song after the breaking of the first melody,” the voice finished and Rhaenys felt a chill settle inside of her, burning with the same intensity as her dragon breathed fire.  _

**_Flash. Back. Further and Further. A beginning. An end. Back before their histories knew to record. Back before the first long night, before the others, before the land of always winter was covered in ice._ **

_ Another heart tree, as large as the tallest of the Valyrian towers, appeared.  _

_ A man and woman stood before it and behind it was a lake larger than any Rhaenys had ever read about or seen.  _

_ This man and woman were not here to wed, but to fight.  _

_ They had already wed, Rhaenys somehow knew, but now they ended those oath’s the only way their gods would allow.  _

_ She held a spear as long as a lance and tipped with shiny, black dragonglass. He held a sword of glimmering silver dragonsteel. Behind them the face on the heart tree was morphing and changing as they lunged and parried the other’s blade.  _

_ A screeching sound made Rhaenys jerk her eyes upwards.  _

_ There above the lake were two dragons. One, so white that it seemed translucent, breathing fire the color of a clear sky. The other’s coloring was identical to all paintings she remembered of Balerion, as bright as the sun. They were fighting as their riders below fought.  _

_ Lighting struck and crashed over the two dragons and wolves began to howl all around her.  _

_ Rhaenys felt herself panic and could not help but swirl, trying to look all around her.  _

_ “Stop, father! Stop, mother!” a voice cried out and she saw a young boy and girl running towards the fighting couple.  _

_ “Stay back, Targon...Stay back, Lynaerys,” the woman hollered back to them.  _

_ “Stop, Stop,” the girl cried out and the wolves howled louder, interwoven with snarls and cries.  _

_ Rhaenys shuddered as she saw the end.  _

_ The final sound of a clash and then the sound of ripping flesh. A dragon screaming rage before finding its throat being ripped from its body and falling upon the shoreline of the water.  _

_ Wolves descended, tearing into the flesh.  _

_ A woman lying dead before the heart tree, her blood running into the lake. The color of the water turning dark as ink with the broken vows.  _

_ The children reached their father who stood over the body and turned dead eyes to them.  _

_ “She was false and she bore me false children,” the man said and raised his sword and let it fall.  _

_ It cut into the boy without mercy even as the girl reached down to grasp the spear and pressed it into the belly of her father.  _

_ As he fell she dropped to her knees before the tree and prayed for mercy.  _

_ “Kill me, kill me. Take me from this world. My mother, the Flint of the North, is dead by the hand of my father, The Flame of the Dragon. My brother, my other half, is gone. Take me. The Pact of Fire and Ice is broken. Let the world freeze, let it burn, I care not,” she begged in front of the weirwood with its frowning face.  _

_ She looked up at the sound of laughter filling the air and gasped as she found the heart tree was now smiling broadly instead of frowning.  _

_ “The water, child, go to the lake and draw a cupped hand of water. Let the water fall into your brother’s mouth.”  _

_ The voice came from everywhere and nowhere all at once.  _

_ Lynaerys stood and did as she was bid. The water was black in her hands as she let it pore into the mouth of her other half. She watched as his eyes flew open and he sat up quickly, coughing.  _

_ “Targon!” she cried but her brother was no more. She could see it as this stranger stood and looked at her.  _

_ “The time of the Flint of the North is gone, even as our last ice dragon fought its summer cousin, a wolf rises south. Our kin will wed into their line one day and the Flint will live on. The first Pact of Fire and Ice is dead, but born it will be. Go, sister, go and claim the dragon,Garyen, of our fallen father and be gifted with the dream,” the boy said.  _

_ “I don’t understand, Targon,” she quietly whispered even as she felt the dragon who had only ever listened to her father start to awake inside her own head.  _

_ “Become the dragon as I become the stranger. Targon has died for no one cannot have a name. For death can be neither fire or ice and can only be but one face of many. Valar Morghulis, Lynaerys, valar morghulis may only be answered with valar dohaeris and it is serving I will go and do. Rise high, Lynaerys and claim your house and your words, for they will return one day to end the long night come again and complete the song and the pact. A son will rise as the song between dragon and wolf and a dragoness will wed a wolf for the pact. The House of the Dragon begins with you as a House of both Black and White begins with me,” her brother answered and Lynaerys shuddered as he walked to the lake and began to walk into it, never emerging again.  _

_ Lynaerys was the daughter of the Winter Dragon, The Flint of the North, and the daughter of the Flame of the Dragon, a man from the east. She walked to Garyen, destroyer of the last Winter Dragon, and she felt the ice fall from her bones and her blood light with the heat of his fire.  _

_ She stood in front of him and whispered the words of her father’s language, “Dracarys.” _

_ Fire danced over her, destroying the winter within, and when it stopped and her clothes had been burned from her body and her head was left bare, Lynaerys felt the thrum of the east calling to her. The world was turning cold, North and Winter was upon them as the wolves south liked to claim.  _

_ She climbed upon Garyen and they lifted into the air and flew to the sea and further east to where her father’s people lived.  _

_ Upon dismounting, days later, the people asked for her name and house.  _

_ Looking over the other people who carried the blood of dragons, she spoke the words that had been on her heart ever since she was baptised by fire and purged of ice.  _

_ “I am Lynaerys of House Targaryen. We are the House of Fire and Blood. I have come for a husband.”  _

**_Flash._ ** __

Rhaenys stood with wide eyes, looking at the tree and down to the water. She looked back to Lyanna who was dusting her breeches off. The sound of feet brought both their attention around to the tree line.

Stark men appeared and Lyanna stepped in front of Rhaenys, drawing her sword. Rhaenys peered around her and finally let herself slightly relax when a man she knew to be Lord Stark stepped out. 

Lyanna took a deep breath in front and her and Rhaenys quickly realized why. The largest wolf she had ever seen was walking towards them, white fur and red eyes. Lyanna reached out and brushed her fingers over his fur before glancing back to Rhaenys. 

“Ghost,” she whispered, “He is Ghost and he is mine.”

Rhaenys hummed in approval, a small quirk in her lips. Let anyone deny Lyanna’s Stark blood now. 

Lord Stark reached them, his eyes wide and upon Lyanna, flickering between the wolf and girl. 

Rhaenys pulled herself up, ignoring the chill that had settled upon her skin, and spoke directly to the man. 

“Lord Stark, Warden of the North, heir of Torrhen, I have come in the name of King Rhaegon of House Targaryen, First of his name, King of Westeros. I am Rhaenys of House Targaryen,” Rhaenys said and was glad her voice did not waver. 

“Be welcome to Winterfell, your Royal Highness. What would King Rhaegon have of us?” her future good-father asked, his voice gravely and solemn. She was surprised to hear a cadence she often heard in her brother’s. 

Swallowing hard, Rhaenys looked him dead-on. 

Warden of the North or not, she was a princess from Dorne and the Princess of the Seven Kingdoms. 

“He sends me...he sends me to fulfill the pact of ice and fire,” she made the words tumble from her mouth and she saw the widening of Lord Stark’s eyes. 

Whatever he had expected, this was not it. 

“Perhaps we should continue this inside the keep?” Lord Stark finally said, his voice even quieter. 

“Guestright. Guestright and news of Ser Oswell and the Princess Daenerys first,” Lyanna suddenly spoke and demanded. 

Rhaenys resisted the urge to reach out to her friend when Lord Stark’s eyes swivelled to his daughter. 

“Of course. Ser Jory, please see that bread and salt are brought. We shall wait here,” the lord ordered, his eyes not leaving Lyanna’s. 

“You look like my mother,” he said quietly. 

“I look like me. I am a daughter of Starfall and of Dorne,” the girl bluntly responded and Rhaenys blanched. She could hear the vulnerability in Lya’s voice, but others would only hear the chill. 

“She also had a habit of lashing out when cornered or uncomfortable. So did your Aunt Lyanna and your sister Arya. She has a desire to learn the sword,” Lord Stark said conversationally. 

Rhaenys watched intrigued as Lyanna seemed to relax slightly. Perhaps it was because he obviously had no issue claiming her as his daughter if he recognized one of his other children as her sister. 

“Does she have the talent?” Lyanna asked and Rhaenys watched as Lord Stark’s face shuddered slightly. 

“She wishes to learn, but as of yet her Lady Mother has not relented,” Lord Stark said slowly and Rhaenys could not help the smirk as Lyanna straightened her back. 

“My Lady mother insisted I be able to protect myself and protect my princesses. My sister should learn to do the same. In war and battle, men care not if you are of noble or baseborn, they will take you regardless,” Lyanna snapped, but then blushed when her father raised an eyebrow. 

He chuckled after a moment, “Aye, you have the right of it. I suppose I had hoped the wars were over, but I know now I was wrong.” 

Rhaenys sighed, “My Lord Stark, you are most unfortunately wrong. The war is nowhere near over, neither the one placing my brother on his throne or the one beyond the wall that has not yet begun.” 

The man looked at her, slightly confused, “Princess?” 

Rhaenys opened her mouth to speak, but the man Lord Stark had sent for bread and salt reappeared and behind him walked a tall, auburn haired man that made her breath catch. 

Robb Stark was everything her dreams had shown, but as he came close and she could make out the curls of his hair and the blue of his eyes, her heart began to almost beat out of her chest. 

“Father? The Princess Daenerys wanted to know what exactly was taking so long to walk from here to there. I think she was threatening harm if something had happened to…,” Robb’s voice stopped as he saw Lyanna. 

Rhaenys watched amused as he looked his sister up and down, obviously noting the sword and breeches, before continuing with no hesitation in his voice, “My newly found sister. Arya is going to love you.”

The last was directed at Lyanna herself and Rhaenys could have kissed her soon to be husband by the smile suddenly on her friend’s face. 

“I see where I lay in this hierarchy,” she japed at Lyanna. 

“We are nameday sisters, born under the same storm, on the same sea, leagues apart but on the same moon at the same hour,” Lyanna defended the relation to Rhaenys and gave her a warning look. 

Rhaenys just gave a slight shrug. It would be hard to keep track of this strange aversion to two people loving each other, but not able to be open because they shared the same body parts. It had not been an issue in Valyria and they all knew the story of Elia and her love of the Lady Lyanna. How she had convinced her husband, Rhaegar, to woo and marry her so that they could be together. 

She thought back to her vision only a few short moments before of Lyanna staring over her father’s shoulder as she said her vows and how Rhaenys knew her mother was repeating them back. 

How Rhaegar had insisted upon Lyanna carrying two of his children so that the dragon would have three heads.

That was the price they agreed to pay for their love, but just as the Lannister’s took Aegon from Elia, they helped to take Lyanna from her as well. 

Rhaenys and Jon were the only heads of the dragon from their father’s seed, but Daenerys was the third. Her father had known the need, but had been fool to the way. Rhaenys was no fool and she had dreamt of her father and knew his obsession of the prince who was promised stole any ability he’d had to love. 

In her darkest dreams, she was grateful for his death. She had seen what could have been if he had not died upon the trident. It had left her bereft with the knowledge that she could never truly wish her father to have lived. 

_ “I will NOT marry him,” she screamed at her father.  _

_ King Rhaegar stared at her from across the table and raised a brow.  _

_ “You are a Princess of the Crown and you will do your duty, Rhaenys. You will marry your Uncle and give him a babe for your brother’s child to marry. Your mother can carry no more children and I have sworn to her brother I will take no more wives. Your brother’s children are more wolf than dragon,” he sneered.  _

_ Rhaenys felt her face flush, “And who’s fault is that, father? You are the one that ordered Jon marry his cousin. He would never have even thought to marry Sansa if you had not demanded it. All to bring peace with the North.”  _

_ Her father’s face grew redder and Rhaenys knew she was stepping perilously close to his ability to contain his temper.  _

_ “The dragon’s must have riders, Rhaenys of House Targaryen. Say another word and I will force Daenerys to break her ties with the Tyrell boy and marry her to her brother,” Rhaegar said coldly.  _

_ Rhaenys snapped her mouth shut and curtsied tightly to him. She would not ruin the chance Dany had for happiness. Whatever agreement she had with Loras Tyrell was her chance, even if not what it seemed.  _

“That’s what the Princess said. She said that she was Daenerys Stormborn and you were Lyanna Sandstorm, two parts of the whole,” Robb said before his eyes drifted to Rhaenys. Rhaenys watched bemused as his eyes widened and he quickly did an awkward sort of bow. 

“Your Royal Highness, welcome to Winterfell,” he said and Rhaenys laughed and smiled at him when he flushed. 

“So your father said, Lord Robb. I look forward to getting to know you,” she said mischievously. 

“And I you,” he answered and Rhaenys could feel her own cheeks redden as they stared at one another. 

Lyanna cleared her throat and Rhaenys looked down. To her embarrassment the bread and salt were being held out to her. She quickly dipped the bread in a chalice of water before pressing it into the salt. Lord Stark led them from the woods as she nibbled on the dry stock. She finished the piece and startled as Robb held out a flagon to her. 

She smiled at him gratefully, the taste of salt upon her tongue, and drank deeply. It was cool water, as crisp as any she’d had. The filtration that Marwyn had to complete on Valyria had left their water stale and they often sweetened it with berries or bittered it with lemons. 

She’d not known the difference until they returned to Westeros. 

“It comes from the springs and is chilled in ice brought from further North,” Robb said as they exited through a gate. The sound of beating wings upon wind made them look up as Silverwing and Branexes flew overhead, heading out into the woods beyond Winterfell. 

“What is your dragon named?” Robb asked as he offered his arm to help her over an uneven ground. She gamely wove her arm into his. 

“Branexes,” Rhaenys offered. 

Robb seemed to ponder this, “How did you come to name him...Branexes?” 

Rhaenys looked at him bemused, “Has Daenerys mentioned anything about why we have come North. Specifically, myself?” 

Robb snorted and then looked embarrassed, but Rhaenys smiled at him encouragingly. 

“Not particularly. She arrived in the dead of night and demanded a maester and guestright. My Uncle Benjen verified her identity and guaranteed her safety. Upon Ser Whent being seen to and declared out of danger, she spoke with my father in his solar alone,” Robb explained. 

“Did she? Do you happen to know what it was they discussed?” Rhaenys asked and knew then that he did in the sheepish way he looked over at her. 

“She yelled at him to behave and treat my sister well upon her arrival and then proceeded to inform him to make sure his lady wife behaved with the utmost of decorum and if she even heard a whisper of illegitimacy in any sort of terms then she’d start feeding Starks to her dragon...starting with the former fish,” Robb informed her quietly and Rhaenys shot him a look of worry. 

Damn Daenerys and her temper, but Robb looked even more amused. 

“Then when my father did not speak, the Princess Daenerys went on to explain that she wouldn’t burn them because that would be rude after her mad father had burned his father unjustly. Then she apologized for her mad father, but hoped Lord Stark would not hold the actions of her father against herself or the King,” Robb finished. 

“And what did Lord Stark say?” Rhaenys could not help but ask for elaboration. 

At this Robb even looked more pleased, “Father laughed. He told her that she was not even born to this world when her father did his actions. She owed him no apology and he would never hold the action of a relative to the life of the child. Then he told her that he would treat his daughter as well as all his other children and he would insure his wife at the very least left his eldest alone.” 

“And you, my Lord? How will you treat your sister?” Rhaenys continued with her questioning, enjoying getting to know her intended. 

Robb looked at her in surprise and looked in front of them where his father walked with Lyanna. 

“She is my sister, my father’s child, and I will treat her as I would treat all my sisters. Although, I think she might appreciate me treating her less like Sansa and more like Arya,” Robb explained and Rhaenys found herself pleased. 

“What does this do with how you came upon your dragon’s name?” he asked after a comfortable silence. 

Rhaenys smiled at him softly and was pleased when he returned it. 

“I named Branexes for Bran the Builder. I am a dreamer like Daenys and I was five years of age when I dreamt my future for the first time,” Rhaenys offered and allowed Robb to absorb this and ask the next question. 

“And what did you dream?” he asked, voice quiet, “Because I feel as though I am five pages of a book behind everyone else.” 

Rhaenys appreciated the picture and offered the truth of what he was asking, “We are to be wed. It is the pact of fire and ice made to  Prince Jacaerys during the dance to Lord Cregan Stark. A Targaryen Princess for a Lord of Winterfell.”

She gaped when Robb laughed aloud and felt herself grow offended before he shook his head, smothering his laughter. 

“I am almost positive my mother has been trying to convince the Princess Daenerys that I would make a good husband. She told my father that she had considered yourself, but that Princess Elia would probably rather see you married to the South,” Robb explained and Rhaenys mouth quirked into a grin. 

“Then let us disabuse her of this notion. I find myself rather happy with my circumstances and I assure you, my mother has no complaints,” Rhaenys teased and was pleased when his eyes lit up. 

* * *

* * *

Lyanna felt as if she was in a world that was not her own, in the shoes of some other girl, and did not know if this would ever feel true. Her father walked beside her, claiming her his child without hesitation, and talking of everything they passed. 

He was giving a history lesson of Winterfell and the Starks who had built it with every step they took and she could not help but be slightly wide-eyed. When they came upon what had to be the Great Keep. 

A small blond came rushing out the minute the door was in sight and Lyanna had only a moment to brace herself till Dany was hugging her and patting her down. 

“Did either of you run into any trouble?” she demanded as she stepped back and glanced at Rhaenys. 

Lyanna was glad to see Benjen coming out the door and giving Daenerys a very stern look at rushing off. He stopped in front of Rhaenys, though, his white cloak over his arm and knelt. 

“Your Royal Highness,” he said quietly, “I wish you had come with Daenerys and Ser Oswell.” 

Lyanna wanted to snap at her uncle even though she knew it was his right to question the choice as a kingsguard. Swordswoman or not, Lyanna was not a kingsguard, and while she loved her cousin and his sister, Daenerys would always have her protection first. 

She somehow believed Jon would not disapprove of her devotion. She would go so far to think that he would be glad that his aunt has someone solely devoted to her safety. 

A noise drew her attention back to the keep and she realized that more people had joined them outside. 

The tall, auburn-haired lady must be her father’s Lady-Wife. She seemed to be concentrating on Rhaenys and her brother, but Lyanna could see the darting eyes looking over at her every few seconds. That would be a thorn bush of a situation and her mother had made her be prepared for the nastiness that could come from it. 

_ “Most women of the south are not like the dornish, poppet. Be prepared for vocal hatred at the worst, but pray for quiet disdain at the best. I do not know the character of Lady Catelyn, but if she is anything like her sister is rumored to be, then you best be on guard.”  _

“She will not bother you,” Daenerys whispered and squeezed her hand, unwilling to let go. Lyanna truly hoped she was right. 

A very pretty, young maiden stood beside Lady Stark. Not yet a woman, but on the cusp. 

“Your sister Sansa. She is a proper little thing. Wanted to know all about the King and his new wife, the Queen. Felt it was romantic rather than political. That’s her mother’s influence. I’ve already begun speaking to Lord Stark about his children needing lessons on the reality of the world,” Daenerys whispered, “The little one beside her is your sister Arya. She is as wild as you were at that age. I’ve already told Lord Stark I feel she would thrive being fostered in Dorne. She needs to be among those that would understand her needs.”

Lyanna cut her eyes over to Daenerys, “Do you plan to give my father a choice on how to parent all of his children or just threaten to feed him to the dragon if he doesn’t listen?” 

Daenerys only blushed briefly at being so easily found out, but quickly recovered and pursed her lips. She shuttered her eyes in the way Lyanna knew meant she was growing irritated, “I will do whatever I need to do to break the wheel that would keep us apart.” 

Lyanna sighed, it was a long, argued debate between them and was unlikely to ever be solved. 

“And what can you tell me of my brothers?” she finally asked as it appeared her father was finally presenting his wife to Rhaenys. 

“Bran can definitely warg and I am almost sure the others can be taught, but he has already begun speaking of how he dreams in his direwolf’s mind when he sleeps and they hunt together. He wants to be a knight and Lady Stark speaks of his squiring with her Uncle. Then Rickon is a wild wolf, but still practically a babe. I can tell you this, though, they already love you and have not quit asking questions. Now, I have one of my own,” Daenerys finished and Lyanna waved her hand indicating the princess get on with it. 

“Why is the white wolf with you?” 

Lyanna blushed and looked down at the large beast beside her. 

“He was waiting for me, I think. He is mine as Silverwing is yours,” she answered and raised an eyebrow at the perplexed look Daenerys was giving her. 

Dany sighed, “I have absolutely no clue how we are going to convince him to get on Silverwing or how we convince Silverwing that he is to go with us.” 

Lyanna couldn’t help but laugh. 

* * *

Jon looked over the map and huffed in exasperation. 

“Are you sure we can’t just take Dreamfyre and just tell them to give us the keep?” a Dornish lord said and Jon looked to his mother in disbelief. 

“Another fool statement like that and you can spend the war in your keep with the women,” Oberyn said wryly. 

The man practically fell over himself to apologize and it took Doran holding his hand up and viewing the map as well for him to stop. 

“Here,” he pointed at a tower. 

“That is correct. If the wall’s can be scaled then the usurper’s can be retained,” Elia confirmed, “From everything we have learned, the Lord Baratheon and his Lady wife moved themselves into the same royal compartments as Rhaegar and I maintained in Maegor's holdfast. A large army at the gate, a blockade at the bay, dragon’s overhead. The royal family will have no other choice than to close the Red Keep and the younger children, especially, will be protected within those walls.” 

“Could we get a force through the tunnels?” Jon asked, but his mother was already shaking her head. 

“I very much doubt the Stags and Lions left anything Targaryen standing besides the Iron Throne. Almost all of the tunnels that Rhaegar showed me were connected with a family artifact. We cannot guarantee safety.” 

“We will not be able to guarantee any safety for anyone, sister, thus is the truth of war,” Doran mused. 

Elia held back the glare she wanted to give and Jon bit his lip to keep from reacting. He had long learned his mother’s reactions.

“We can reconvene in the morning,” Jon finally released the council and began to walk back towards his own quarters with Arianne. His wife was something of a perplexing conundrum. He had thought she would join his council with the planning to secure the realm, but she had patted his cheek and let him know she now had to prepare her brother to one day rule Dorne. 

He’d never given much thought to the idea that his wife had been raised to rule as well as he had, but she had actually been prepared to rule Dorne. Since her father had only deemed fit to tell her of their engagement a few weeks before they had actually wed, she had been taken a little by surprise. Arianne had apparently decided at this point that she would need to spend gratuitous time with her brother, Prince Quentyn, preparing him for all the things she felt he would need to know about ruling Dorne. 

“Your Grace,” Jaime’s voice came from where he was walking beside him. 

Jon looked over at his mother’s favorite kingsguard. 

“Yes, Ser Jaime?” he asked, wondering if this would finally be when the man asked what they all knew he wanted. 

“Your Grace had mentioned that he wished to release me from my vows and place me in the west,” Jaime went on, “I was curious if Your Grace would be willing to allow this after the war has concluded?” 

Jon nodded as they walked, “Of course, Ser Jaime. Your service is as always appreciated in however you wish to give it. You may remain one of my kingsguard or I can release you from those vows and send you west as Warden. If I release you, though, Jaime, you will be my Warden.” 

Jaime blanched but nodded, “I was hoping to ask for your blessing in asking the Princess Regent Elia to be my Lady.” 

Jon chuckled and raised an eyebrow when Jaime looked at him incredulously, “Really, Jaime, of course you have my blessing as well as Rhaenys. She loves you as much as you love her and we all know. I would see my mother happily settled with a partner of her choosing. I would only ask if she becomes with child that you allow Marwyn to come to the Rock and attend her or that she stays in King’s Landing for the duration.” 

“Of course, Your Grace,” he agreed and after a moment’s pause, “My sister’s children…” 

Jon sighed, “The wall for the boy claiming to be Robert Baratheon’s heir. We know now the children were not his seed, but I cannot leave one calling himself King as a rally point. I will be honest and say I do not know how well he will fare in the North and do not expect him to live long. It will give him a chance though and some control over his future. The younger two, the twins? Myrcella and Joanna. They will be fostered with a loyal family and legitimised to their mother’s house if you wish it.”

“And there father’s,” Jaime muttered and Jon gave him a sympathetic look. 

“I know we cannot not stop the gossip of who they were fathered by, but Jaime, the crown will never confirm it. It’s the most we can offer,” Jon said quietly and Jaime gave him a tight smile. 

“Jaime? Jon? Do you both plan to stay in the halls all day or are you going to come in for luncheon? Arianne has had fare from the Riverlands prepared today,” Elia called and both men gave her a sheepish look. 

Jon watched as Jaime stared at his mother for a moment and his mother’s cheeks reddened at the appreciation. He looked over to the small table that was set and his wife standing next to it. 

“My husband,” Arianne grinned at him and Jon knew his own cheeks were reddening now by the way she practically devoured him with a stare. 

The two moons of them being in Sunspear had a whirlwind of ravens, arrival of parts of the army built in Essos, and his marriage with sequential bedding. Another part of the army was on its way to White Harbor at Rhaenys written request with permissions from his Uncle. They were a smaller portion but would be marching to the wall. Jon still had not told anyone of the things Dany, Rhaenys, and himself knew was going to happen. 

They would not understand the magic that thrummed through them and grew stronger with every passing year. Rhaenys was, by far, the most connected to the gods of all of them, but Daenerys had true dreams and Jon dreamt himself into Dreamfyre often enough. 

“Katori is asking for you to visit her in the evening,” his mother said as they sat and began to eat. 

“I received her message. Do you know if Melisandre was able to secure the passage to the wall with those leaving?” Jon asked as he tried to not roll his nose up at the trout. It was not to his taste. The apple brined pork from the Reach they had the night before had been pleasing. 

Elia nodded and tried not to laugh when Jon shuffled the fish around on his plate and quickly added more cut fruit to his plate. 

* * *

  
  
  


He met Katori down by the shoreline. She was standing where the water rushed into the sand, each movement of waves pulling more and more sand from her feet. 

“It is time for me to join Melisandre, King Rhaegon. The portents are clear and even in this southern land I feel the chill on the cusp of the air. I will meet your sister and aunt in Winterfell. I will send Daenerys and Silverwing back to you, but Rhaenys and Lyanna will join us beyond the wall,” the Lengui woman informed him and Jon had to bite back a cutting retort. 

When Katori read the signs and said it was time, then it meant it was time. By not listening to her they could find themselves in much worse condition than before. 

“Fret not, young king. The wolf son will protect his mate with his own life. Your sister and cousin will be fine,” the woman continued as if he had spoken aloud. 

“How long till I must have all the kingdoms united and in the North?” he quietly murmured as he came closer to stand beside her and stare out into the dark expanse. 

Katori tilted her head and looked to the sky for a moment before answering, “Six moons. In six moons, the march North must start.” 

Jon tilted his head as he thought over the words and their current plans. 

“I will need proof. The people here might see dragons and believe me a king, but they will need proof of a threat before I convince all the rest to march North. The Reach especially. Arianne says a contingent set’s out to leave for King’s Landing. They are seeking to sit Lady Margaery as Queen to Joffrey’s false kinghood,” Jon quietly murmured as he thought. 

Katori nodded in understanding, “In two moon’s time I will send back the proof necessary with two men from the Watch. Melisandre saw this in her flames. Take Dreamfyre and Viserys and fly to the Reach. Offer whatever is needed to dissuade them from joining Joffrey.”

Jon snorted, “Yes, that is what Arianne suggested as well. I am to apparently offer our not yet alive son’s hand in marriage to a Tyrell girl of a like age in betrothal. Arianne thinks they will see the dragon, take my measure, and agree.”

Katori nodded, “It is a wise choice. They will likely marry Lady Margaery off quick to ensure that it is her child that marries yours.”

Jon sighed, “One day, my greatest wish is that my family might marry for love and not for power.”

Katori looked aside at him and sighed sadly, “I’m afraid that this is the burden of the crown, but fear not, my young sovereign. Perhaps, like yourself, your children will find the gods matched them to the other half of their soul.”

Jon smiled wryly, “I can only pray.” 

Laughing softly, Katori answered as she turned to make her way back to the palace, “In that, King Rhaegon, we are all the same.” 

  
  
  
  


**Author's Note:**

> There are currently three chapters written. I wanted to start the new year off with something new and did that with my Harry Potter AU and this one. The updates will come sporadically and I am still working on my last two ASOIAF/GOT stories. I am also in graduate school, have a full time career, and a fourteen year old. There is not an update schedule and I will write as time permits. Nothing has been abandoned. 
> 
> If I get any bashing type of comments, they will be deleted. This is an AU, it is not how I think the story went or accurate across the board on characters. 
> 
> *****Please no concrit.


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